Everyday, Since Leaving
by Matau25
Summary: Chell travels as far as she can from that lone shed in a sea of golden plains. Her only regret, is that it would have been nice to share it with someone. Chell/Wheatley. The excitement has begun.
1. Prologue

Author's Note:

Alright, lets just say that I have no plot line whatsoever at this point, just setting up an introduction which includes my take on what Chell is up to after leaving Aperture. I am trying to be as realistic as possible. I really don't want to make it cheesy, so here is my attempt at submitting my very first fanfiction. I hope you guy's like it.

* * *

**Everyday, Since Leaving**

**Prologue**

It was a cold day, and there was still no sign of shelter in the immediate area. The wheat grasses had turned a dull gray instead of their usual golden hue and the overcast sky blended evenly with it at the horizon. It seemed as if she were walking into an infinite landscape with infinite gray and an expanse of nothingness in every direction.

Funny.

It matched her mood perfectly.

Where was she to go? Not back to that damned facility, where her life had been hanging by the narrow thread which was the whim of any AI that took control. And now that her life was hers to control, there was no point. What was her survival for? There was no one else! No one! She had been wandering past settlement after settlement seeing nothing but the evidence of a rushed abandonment of the area. She closed her eyes and could almost picture what had occurred in each town, but what happened? What were they running from?

Too many questions!

She had no idea even how much time had passed since she had been put into cryo. She couldn't exactly ask back at the facility, the words could never form themselves in her throat. She was either born that way, or it was a side effect from her long sleep. How many years does it take to max out the internal clock in the Aperture Science Relaxation Chambers? How many hundreds? Thousands?

No!

Stop thinking!

There was too much going on at Aperture to think about the long term. She was either running for her life through the various catwalks of the mausoleum or risking it theory after theory during her time in the test chambers. There was no time to philosophize about what had happened to the world during her absence from its surface. Had she been here before? If she had, there was no memory of it whatsoever. Brain damage or no, she had no idea. It was not familiar. There was no recalling of anything before her testing with GLaDOS. So the scientists must have done something. Because there had to have been a life for her before, she was 23!

Who had obviously grown since then? She had tried to put her upper jumpsuit back on due to the recent cold weather, but the sleeves were a bit short. It was better than nothing, but it made her wonder. Did the amount of time she slept in cryo affect her body composition, as if it were rebounding after years and years of stasis?

_OH wouldn't the scientists just love testing that?_ She mouthed the words laughing as she shook her head at the sky. So that's why GLaDOS kept insinuating that she was fat.

She crossed her arms to shield herself from the biting cold, continuing her brisk walk over the flat plains. She assumed that she was walking in a strait line, since the setting sun stayed at her direct left-hand side. The pink-orange colored dot in the sky was easy to see through the clouds, thank goodness. Without it she would have had to sleep here for the night. Up ahead a few miles there must definitely be something, she just knew it.

The intuition that had taken over her body and will as a wave of adrenaline and determination at the scientific institution was back. There was no way she would have been able to navigate Aperture if it wasn't for her instinct. The relief that had washed over her as the elevator opened to reveal the sunny atmosphere of the natural world was enough to bring her to her knees. She remembered a hissing noise, as the processed air that she would have been breathing for the rest of her life in that sterile white laboratory, collapsed with that of the organic environment. To her surprise the scorched and abused companion cube was tossed out the shaft after her. But soon found that without the hand-held portal device, she could not carry the cube for very long. Thankfully GLaDOS had left her with the long fall boots, which she wouldn't have been able to walk her first mile without.

Knowing that it was slowing her down she had left the cube at the first settlement she had reached, underneath a large oak tree, where dark green grass sprouted underneath it. It was beautiful place, really, but she couldn't stay. Chell had to see more, and nothing could hold her back.

Her cloud-gray feeling of loneliness propelled her.


	2. Chapter 1

Authors Note: Wow. This chapter took a lot of effort. And believe me I was trying to put this out as soon as possible, but the amount of thought for the plot took up most of my time, but I think I have a good idea of what the next few chapters will contain as well.

Also, I usually like to listen to either soundtracks or some instrumental songs while I read fanfictons. If you do too, I would recommend downloading music by The Hamster Alliance (.com). His portal inspired songs, which are free by the way, go very well with many portal fanfictions, including this one. The ambiance is very chilling and mysterious.

The Portal 2 soundtrack Vol. 1 is also on the Official Portal 2 website for free as well, but I'm sure most of you already know that ;), so just a heads up.

Thank you for reading.

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**Everyday, Since Leaving…**

**Chapter 1**

She was right. Chell grinned and yelled inwardly in accomplishment. Another settlement was on the horizon, a few miles away from her position. Two oak trees marked the clearing. She began to run. Her weary muscles were protesting with every step, but she moved on, using the long fall boots to spring her way to protection from the cold, and another restful night. There was no need for adrenal vapor, but there was a need for food and water. Coming across another town meant finding more supplies as well. She had found canned food untouched in the cellars of each house at her last stop. Were their previous tenants planning on coming back? She hoped so.

The hour was late. The sun left the world in a twilight glow as Chell made her way toward the settlement with ragged breaths. The oak trees were more abundant now, but it was getting hard to see in this lighting. The wind began to pick up, and it was getting colder. Thankfully, it helped numb the burning sensation in her legs.

_Whoa, _she breathed, as she skidded to a halt. The ground in front of her was a gaping chasm around twenty, no, thirty feet in diameter? In this lighting she was lucky to have spotted it. It was pitch black. Something she would have to take a look at in the morning. Giving it a wide berth, she slowly walked around it. She would continue at this pace, just in case there were more of them.

By the time she got to the oaks, the sun had set, though the moonlight that shown through the clouds had lit her path just enough to stumble upon shelter. The door was locked at first, but long fall boots made for excellent battering rams. The dark room concealed her from the wind. She found a couch and unlatched her boots, tossed her bag of new-found belongings next to them and fell asleep instantly.

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Chell awoke with a bitter taste in her mouth.

She had no dreams that she could recall of.

That was new.

The room was lit through the east window, in which she guessed was the dining room. Chell squinted at the low lying rays and silently yawned. That meant the clouds had finally dissipated.

_Good. I hate the cold._

Shielding her eyes with one hand, she studied her surroundings. The couch she was lying on, the only one in the room, was floral printed and would have been very elegant, if it weren't for the dust and aging it went through. The walls of the room were an off-white color and gray fabric curtains framed the windows. As she sat up and stretched, she noted that the room smelled musty from the years of being abandoned, but there was also an aroma of sweetness in the room. She stood up and crossed the space warily, her bare feet making no noise as she moved to the kitchen, on the other side of the dining space. Resting in a dark purple vase on the counter, next to a worn stove, was a dried bouquet of yellow roses. They looked strangely radiant as they sat underneath the morning sunlight. This seemed to be the only thing left in the kitchen, as she neatly looked through the cupboards and pantry, it revealed only a bit of spilled flour and rice grains on top of old, stained wallpaper.

_So much for an easy meal…_

Chell explored both bedrooms (it is a relatively small house), checked to see if the tap was running (which surprisingly was, only, it was coming up brown), and then found the stairs to a basement. The lights weren't running, but it isn't too hard to see shapes of things. Once her eyes had attuned to the darkness, she was able to make out what looks like a hutch. It was elegantly engraved, and has a key slot, which was locked, that held two glass adorned doors. Whatever was inside was covered in dust. She ran back to the couch and put on her boots.

Easily enough, the glass shattered and along with it poured out a liquid. Being mindful of the broken glass, she reached into the hutch, and pulled out what felt like a glass bottle, this one unbroken. She walked back up the stairs, and noticed that her white boots had been splashed with a purple substance. Chell cleaned the liquid off with a scrap of fabric from her day pack and turned her attention to the bottle. A label on the side of it had something written in a very sophisticated form of calligraphy, which she couldn't read. Everything back at the facility had been a simple print.

Examining the bottle further it was made with a green glass and had a gray cork top, which was awfully hard to get off. She pulled a pocket knife from her bag (yes she was extremely lucky to find that, dropped outside of a town, resting in a crack between two concrete flooring slabs), and pried the sides of the cork upward. A hissing sound, similar to that of the elevator shaft, escaped from the innards of the bottle, as well as a strong tangy, yet sweet smell (an awful like the room actually, but more concentrated). Smelling it some more, she gathered the nerve to take a sip. This had happened to her before, only with a jar of pickles, and she decided that they were definitely not for consuming. Tilting the bottle slightly, so that she only got a small taste, she swallowed. The liquid was warm, without being warm at all, but it had this strong flavor that countered the pickle juice altogether. She spat it out.

_Nothing healthy is meant to taste like that. There is no way. It must've spoiled._

Going back down into the cellar, the glass she had broken crunched between her boots and the hardwood flooring. Chell walked further into the dark spaces. Following the empty shelves with her hands she made her way to the back of the room. Back here, a small skylight lit the area with an iridescent glow. A small footlocker rested on a table to her left. She goes to move it, but a stale, familiar scent stops her. This is nothing like the strange liquid she had experienced earlier, or the yellow roses that she had awaken to. This was much more recognizable. The sharp metallic tang, similar to blood, and the nausea which followed, brought back unwelcome memories. She had smelled it before when she had confronted GLaDOS, disarmed her generator, and during her retaliation against her friend.

_Neurotoxin._

She moved the crate, and could see a vent in the wall behind it, along with the remnants of a human skeleton. It had the tattered remains of a once white garment, possibly a lab coat. Chell couldn't breathe. She backed away quickly, finding her way to the stairs in a suppressed panic. Running, she grabbed her backpack hurriedly; knocking over the bottle of purple liquid in her wake, and thrashing the front door open once more. Chell fell to her hands and knees outside gasping for air. Fear grips her heart and at that same moment she's angry. Aperture had taken everything from her. First it had taken her freedom, then her dignity, her _only_ friend, and even the chance to have a normal life outside of its fluorescent lights and stainless walls. So that was it then? There was no one here, and there wouldn't be, besides her.

Pushing her thoughts aside, she got up and looked around. She hadn't been outside since the sun was up and now Chell could see the extent of the place. There were so many trees. Great oaks surrounded the area; it was green and the air smelled fresh. And there was a distant sound of running water. The area around the house was relatively clean, unlike the other places she had been to. There was no trash scattered everywhere amongst the weeds and overgrowth, or even a hint of anyone's struggle to flee. Why? Was this the first place the Neurotoxin got to before anyone could leave?

The sun was slowly climbing higher than the tops of the oak trees at her left, not too far from her. She wasn't used to how little time there was in a standard day; she should have left as soon as she had awakened. From where she stood she could see no other houses.

_So what was that big hole in the ground the other day?_

She might as well go check it out now, before continuing on her straight path. Yet, as she began to walk around the house, she caught sight of a strange white building behind the tree-line. It was two stories tall, and had dark glass windows. Curiously, Chell walked to the front door, passing a small backyard orchard of vines. The vines had actually covered part of the building and had looped themselves through the door handles. She applied her pocket knife to the plant's tough flesh and was then able to pull a large glass door open. She was compelled to find something of use on her travels; she couldn't leave this place without some kind of resource.

The first room was dark, due to the tinted windows of the building, so she walked carefully to what looked like a reception desk. Chell heard a crisp crackling sound which startled her, and a few seconds later the sound was followed with a mechanical bang, as a bright flash of light flooded the room. She quickly ducked under the protective marble of the reception counter in fright ready for whatever else was coming.

But there was nothing else.

It was silent.

_Electricity? Here? So those are motion sensor lights?_

She came back out of hiding and walked to the other side of the desk. There was a broken flat-screen computer monitor on the floor and the chair was toppled over. Chell opened one of the file cabinets, but the information there held no clues to what kind of people were there before, or what kind of business they were representing, because all of the paper records had been wet. As she looked around the room, she noticed that the walls had been burned on the inside. Layers of carbon covered them and destroyed whatever evidence they held. That would explain the water damage though. Someone or something must have tried to put it out. The laminate that had once covered the floors was warped and melted, and was showing the cement that lay underneath. A door labeled "Employees Only" was slightly ajar, so Chell decided to explore the complex. She walked down a few walkways, passing doors locked with keypads until she stopped, startled. At the end of this walkway, there was another corpse lying at the corner of the wall and a strange airlock panel. Breathing deeply she expelled her queasiness and stood over the body. A skeleton like before, but this one had a laminated nametag at the end of a rusted chain. "Mira Kepler: Receptionist".

Taking a closer look at the panel, there was a key card slot, and two different colored lights. The red one was on, which told her that the door was in working shape, but she needed a card to open it. Chell looked down at the body again. That name tag was the perfect size. Cringing, she reached down to clip the card off of its chain, and inserted it into the slot.

"Welcom…mmM…Miss Kepler," a speaker beside the lights crackled to life, and the green light blinked furiously, as the airlock opened, slowly retracting into the left wall. Mira's remains slumped to the floor. Chell quickly ran to the next obstacle in the hallway, slightly timid. The next door she found wasn't pad locked, sealed, or disturbed in any way, but what intrigued her even more about it was what it was labeled.

"Cold Storage"

_There must be food in here, there has to be. Like a big fridge, only corporate size. _

She mouthed a prayer as her hand readied the handle. With a resounding click, it unlatched. The lights flickered on inside the room, but as soon as it did so, the airlock behind her clamped shut.

_I know this may be dangerous, but my instincts have never failed me before._

Shutting her eyes briefly, with renewed confidence, she pushed through the open door.

It was not a food storage room like she believed it to be. Hundreds of cryo caskets lined the walls, and many of them were open and unoccupied. Each of these displayed a small red light at the base. This must have been where the receptionist was trying to get to, but was unsuccessful. The Neurotoxin got there first.

She had to admit, she was disappointed, but she had also noticed the few chambers that were glowing green. They were at the back of the room, next to a cylindrical pair of metal doors in the wall. An elevator to the top level maybe? It didn't matter; the key card didn't work on them. So it seemed she was stuck there for now. There was some computer equipment in the corner, but she didn't know how to operate it, so instead, Chell walked over to the occupied stasis chambers. She was fascinated by them. Never in her life, (well, the life she can remember) had she seen so many other humans. As a matter of fact when was the last time she saw a person? She had only seen them in paintings and family photos that she had come across in the abandoned houses. She noticed that there were names engraved on the sides of them. One was a young blond woman dressed in formal wear. "Jessica T. Lawrence" read her bed's inscription. In the one next to hers, was a man. He was also blond, but it was a darker shade. He was dressed in formal attire as well. "Mark S. Warren"

She scanned through five more pods, but was stopped by a name. The man in this pod was relatively tall. He had light brown hair and wore casual clothing, jeans and a white T-shirt. There were frozen beads of sweat across his brow, but other than that, he looked peaceful in stasis.

Chell ran her fingers across the embossed letters.

"Martin P. Wheatley"

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And that's the end of this chapter. Sorry if it was a little long and bland in some parts. I really didn't want to give Wheatley a last name, but it's the only way it worked out in my mind with this sort of character introduction. (UPDATE: Actually as Lieju has pointed out, I have changed his name around a little. Thank you. That sounds much better.) I hope you liked it, as much as I enjoyed writing it though! There is so much more to come.

Please leave a review so I can get some constructive feedback, or just let me know how you feel about it.

Thanks so much.

-Matau25


	3. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Thank you everyone for the reviews! Oops, I will definitely remember to check my tenses for now on. I suppose, it's when I am trying to write how someone is thinking, I tend to slip up.

For some Illustrations you can visit my Deviant Art page: matau25. The link is in my profile. Enjoy!

**Everyday, Since Leaving**

**Chapter 2**

She was still in the midst of Aperture. The one place she was running from and she couldn't even get away from it.

_How large _was _this facility?_

It probably went on for hundreds of miles under the surface.

She paced the room. There was no sign of the Aperture logo anywhere. She remembered in the facility, it was placed nearly everywhere, and on everything. She had first thought this was a different kind of company. One that normal people went to work for, with nothing sinister and cryptic about its business dealings.

Well, she was trapped here unless she got someone to help her with the elevator doors.

She looked at the brunette man in stasis, then back at the fancy computer equipment. Maybe he would be able to help her, if he wasn't dead.

Wheatley. So, he was human? Well of course, GLaDOS was Caroline at one point, so it only made sense. Her heart hardened when she thought of his betrayal, and how helpless she was when he had become the very thing that they had feared. She was angry that she could not tell him that he was wrong, and remind him of what they were trying to do, that she had depended on him. He was her only friend, and he tossed it away, for the chance to become an all powerful overseer of nothing but dust and echoes. But it had backfired; he soon became a slave to the "Itch", a constant hunger for the euphoric response to testing. He had soon become immune to its effect, started to get frustrated, and then took everything out on GLaDOS and herself. She hated him for it at the time, but once she understood what kind of a predicament he got himself into, she began to feel sorry for him. Unlike GLaDOS, She wasn't in it for the revenge. Chell believed that once Wheatley was removed, he would be released from his delusion of grandeur, and would see just how corrupted he truly became. She had always wondered where it went wrong. It was just a bad series of coincidences. She knew it wasn't Wheatley's fault for going mad with power. That was pre-programmed to _Her_ body. It had turned him into a power-crazed, homicidal, testing-addict. She remembered how frightened he sounded when she let go.

But she would never get the chance to know if he had realized what he had done, or if he was regretful for trying to kill her. It was too late now. She should have kept her grip, no matter if the cold of space was nipping at her limbs or the air from her lungs escaping into the vacuum. She should have saved him, because he still was, in spite of everything he had done to her, her best friend. Or was there still a chance she could save him?

She had to give it a try. It was the least she could do.

She walked to Wheatley's casket, and noticed that there was a control panel on the exterior, next to his right shoulder. The buttons were easy enough to understand. One read "Auto". Another was labeled "Manual", with a sequence of strange buttons next to it. She guessed that these buttons defrosted its contents.

Chell was taking a risk doing this. She didn't know how it was possible, exactly, for him to be here. Was it really Wheatley? She hoped that he recognized her, or else this would get very awkward, and she had no way to tell him her story. Sure she was able to read, but writing was a different story. It was difficult, literacy was not something required for testing. Charades was not her thing either, but if it helped, then she would only do it if it was a last resort. She believed that she had survived without human contact for so long, because she was naturally withdrawn. But _anyone_ can get lonely.

With mixed feelings, she pressed "Auto". A whirring noise filled the air, and she watched as the man's hair began to moisten. The water droplets on his skin condensed and dripped down to the bed's surface. A minute afterward, his breath fogged the transparent material above his face then disappeared with each inhale. The machinery he rested on adjusted the interior elements of its enclosure to the outside environment, drying his body.

Chell backed away from the cryo chamber and leaned against the computer equipment, as the glass slider opened. She didn't want to startle him if he woke up.

As if on cue, he stirred. The man in the box moved his head slowly taking a good look at the ceiling and the cells next to him. Her presence went unnoticed. He moved his arms to grab the left side of his bed, heaved his shoulders up over the side, and retched. It was nothing really. It was more of a gag than anything. He'd obviously not eaten anything before going under.

"Ugh…" he sighed groggily, "This is different."

It was his voice; the same accent she knew. Curious, Chell walked slowly into his peripheral vision.

"Ah!" Wheatley jumped lightly, "Oh, of course you're the one who woke me up. Brilliant, how long was I out?"

Chell shrugged her shoulders eyeing him with a look of unease.

"What? Have they done something strange to me?" He began to check his vitals. Looking down at his body, "Arms, Legs, those look normal." Moving on to his chest and abdomen, "That feels fine." As he reached up to his head, he noticed a few, still tender, scabs at the nape of his neck. He paused with a visible shudder, "um..."

Chell walked over him, this time with an expression of worry. She stopped a foot away.

"So they did get to me, after all."

He met her grey eyes with his own light blue, and then looked her over, with one hand still on his head. There was no recognition in his expression, until he saw what she was wearing.

"Test subject?" His focus flitted from her jumpsuit wrapped around her waist to the only sign in the room, just above the door she had entered through.

It read:

REMEMBER. IF YOU SEE AN ORANGE JUMPSUIT, HIT THE RED BUTTON.

Of all the places she had looked in the room, of course, she had missed that completely. Who knows what she had looked over in between test chambers, if she hadn't remembered to look behind her? Did that sign even matter now? There was no one in the facility now besides GLaDOS, but did _he _know that? She looked around to see if there was a red button in sight. There was none that she could see in the immediate area.

Wheatley swung his legs over the side of the open chamber and attempted to stand. Using his arms for stability, he had risen successfully.

"A little stiff, but otherwise…" he noticed that his company was frantically searching for something in the room, "wait. What are you…oh! No, don't worry about that. I was just trying to remember correctly, that's all.

Chell stopped and looked toward his figure. He was leaning on the casket with one elbow, looking quite relaxed. His other hand rested on his hip. He was at least a foot taller than her, she could tell, even though he was hunched over for balance.

"I can't even read that at the moment anyway." He gestured to the sign, "I'll need to grab my glasses from the lockers upstairs." Wheatley added with a light chuckle. "So what is your name anyway? And what happened? I know! Something is wrong, seeing that there is a test subject waking me up this time instead of a cryogenicist."

Chell motioned to her throat, and shook her head.

_Let the charades begin. _

"Oh, right. Sorry." Wheatley nodded in understanding. "Uh… would you be able to show me? Like, write it down or something?"

She shrugged her shoulders and thought for a moment. Her eyes found the computer equipment and then a dusty flat surface. Perfect. Chell waved him over to the table, and wrote her name. That was one thing in her limited vocabulary that she definitely knew how to spell. Wheatley met her at the table and she wrote down her name in the dust.

"Alright…uh," He looked at the desk, "hello Chell. My name's Martin, but everyone here used to call me Wheatley, my last name. They said it 'fit me well', don't really know why, but anyway…" He shook her hand.

_I know, _she mouthed, but he didn't catch it, instead he was looking at the people occupying the other caskets.

"What should we do with the others here? To be honest, I worked down here as a volunteer, and I suppose I was found to be a key subject for _their_ research." He gently touched the back of his head again. "All of it confidential. Before then, I worked upstairs in the cubicles, so I am of no use with this equipment."

_Damn._

She walked over to the elevator doors. Wheatley brought his hand up to his chin in thought, as he watched her examine the key panel. "Perhaps one of them has a card? Or we could try hacking it?"

Chell burst out in a fit of silent giggles at his suggestion.

"What? Was there something funny?" Wheatley replayed what he had said in his mind, trying to understand what she was grinning madly about.

Chell got a hold of her self and waved him off, shaking her head, still smiling.

"Um… alright then." He answered; slightly embarrassed that he was unable to place the joke. "So how did you operate the stasis chamber?"

Coming back to her senses, she walked over to the blonde woman, and pointed to the "Auto" button. Her friend walked over and nodded. "Oh! Jessie, of course, she was part of the science staff. Alright, let's try it."

The machine came online again and thawed the person inside. The Glass slid to the side, and minutes had passed, but the person inside had not moved.

"Did it take long for me to get out of there?" Wheatley asked concerned.

Chell shook her head, no, and leaned over the body to look for an ID card or key. To her relief, she found one in the woman's jacket pocket. She quickly ran past Wheatley to the double doors of the lift, she put the card into the slot, and the doors opened with a satisfying shutter-sound. Smiling in triumph, she turned around. But when she did, she saw him pressing his fingers to the pulse spot at her neck, with a sorrowful mask on his face.

"She's dead." He said in almost a whisper.

Chell had been around so much death so far that she had gotten used to it, but poor Wheatley had just awaken into a nightmare. She crossed the white "marble" flooring and rested a hand between his shoulder blades. This seemed to comfort him a little, as he smiled back at her briefly before pressing "Auto" once more. The machinery hummed and turned Jessica T. Lawrence back into an ice sculpture.

Wheatley wanted to check the others, and see if any of them had survived whatever experiments they had been subjected to. Unfortunately, most of them hadn't. The ones that did awaken for a few minutes, slid back into unconsciousness soon after. All of them were put back into stasis. Maybe there was some information upstairs.

"Come on then, let's go. I've had enough of this place." Wheatley sighed walking into the elevator. Chell walked in beside him and pressed the button for the second floor.

_If only he knew._

Author's Note:

Don't worry. The next few chapters will be faster. The amount of time it takes to write, as well as content-wise. But here is a nice long chapter to tide you over until another is written. 1,960 words!

Hope you liked the chapter, and weren't distracted by any errors on my part. Proofread it as much as I could.

Tell me what you think of it so far in the review section! Thanks!

-Matau25


	4. Chapter 3

Author's Note:

Ahhh, back to writing.

I wrote most of the dialogue on my iPod before typing it on my laptop, because I had this huge epiphany about this chapter and I was out of the house. I take my iPod everywhere I go. Thank God for that, because I forget things easily sometimes!

Oooh! Aren't you guys lucky? 3,500+ words this time… I think that's a record for me, not even my school papers were this big. (And now that I've said that, my college papers are going to be nightmares…)

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, notably tinmiss1939 for the long critique (very insightful!). You guys don't only show me that you have interest in reading my story, but you also help give me ideas about the plot, which I haven't necessarily captured. Not to mention that I can better my writing skills, and through that, your own reading experience. I appreciate you all very much!

Now read.

* * *

**Everyday, Since Leaving**

**Chapter 3**

The elevator opened to a pristine white hallway that looked as if it had been untouched by the years that had gone by (Chell noted that they would make very good portal surfaces). The fluorescent lighting reflected off the walls making both humans squint as they traveled to its opposite end. Wheatley led the way, since he knew these parts of the facility intricately. The door opened to reveal a very large room, with smaller, open, gray-walled rooms within it. Chell stopped to look around cautiously while Wheatley sped to his old workstation. She scanned the nearest cubicles for anything useful, tools or information, and in her fruitless search stumbled upon another vent. This one was in the floor, along with the remains of another employee. The occupant of this desk had gotten hit with the neurotoxin first; he or she probably panicked, causing dire turmoil.

"Chell? Are… are you coming?" Wheatley called from his workplace, near the back of the room. She had better try to hide these bodies from him; he's had a rough first few hours.

"Chell!" What, did he expect her to answer? She stood on a desk to see where he was at. His face snapped over to her and he waved.

So, he'd found his glasses.

When she arrived at the cubicle, he was sitting in an office chair. Already hard at work on his computer (fortunately it was in working condition). He had brought up his own file, and was searching through the projects listed there. It seemed he had also found his own key card, which hung around his neck, and a dark brown collard shirt, which he had tied around his waist.

"Lets see." He whispered under his breath, "What were they up to?"

Chell sat on the floor next to him, watching the words and numbers on the screen scroll upward. She took this time to notice in detail what he looked like. He wasn't exactly who she had imagined to his voice. The person she had thought of was much older. This man looked to be around his mid thirties. His male, average length, reddish-brown hair was parted to the left. Minuscule copper fibers lined his jaw. It was thicker at the sides of his face, toward his ears. The stubble grew thinner at his chin, which curved in a gentle cleft. His nose, which held up his black, angular-framed glasses, was short and rounded slightly upward. The computer screen lit his large, mild blue eyes as he narrowed them in thought. As he stares at the data, one of his broad, but narrow hands comes to rest just under his chin. Chell notices a watch strapped to his wrist, but it doesn't look like its working. Cryo storage must have ruined it.

She looked back up from her detailed account of him, to see that he was watching her with a blank expression on his face; hand still at his chin. She held his gaze, with determination on her face, and Wheatley couldn't help but look away with a pinkish tinge to his complexion.

"Well, I have found numerous files on Artificial Intelligence Tech. I remember that the company was working on this subject at the time, but I wasn't in that department. We were working on making a sleek, hand-held version of the monstrous Quantum Tunneling Device." He explained.

Chell nodded in understanding. In the substructure of Aperture, she had seen numerous depictions of the prototype portal gun. It looked like a leaf-blower, on steroids.

"Oh! So you do know what that is? Great. That's what you tested on right? From the way you can walk around normally, without a hunch, and seeing those boots you are wearing, tells me that the results worked properly then?"

She nodded once more.

"Amazing. Did you know that in the early stages of its development, some test subjects actually ended up in different dimensions? Or, that's what the rumors were."

He laughed when Chell looked at him with shock.

"And did they tell you that there were two miniature German Stick Grenades inside its gauntlet so that you could _reboot _the black hole?"

She glared at him.

"Hey, that one is definitely true! The facts are all in this computer, under heavily encrypted files most likely, but they are here nonetheless. I'm only telling you this because the people who made me sign a form of confidentiality happen to be dead." He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. Chell had also leaned against the gray wall behind her, so he decided to tell her his side of the story. "I became a volunteer, because I was bored of working all the time up here, in this dull little room. And, I guess, I did want to see what they were doing down there, without the life threatening bit. I was part of a science team, but I was confined to making faucet fasteners. It was dangerous enough there, without going into the restricted areas. I may have been called relatively dim witted more than once, but I wasn't stupid enough to sign my life away with one of those enormous applications."

He turned his attention back to the computer and scrolled through a few more files, before turning back to her.

"What did really happen here? I mean, this place is completely abandoned, except for the two of us. Even this computer doesn't know where the time went." He motioned to the bottom right corner of the screen where it was marked: Sunday January 01, 1980. "I had no idea that 1980 was the earliest year on a computer," He laughs "unless I have traveled back in time? I wonder if I could go see myself growing up back in England. Do you think I would run into the Doctor, time traveling and such…?" Chell tapped him on the shoulder.

"Oh, sorry." Wheatley noticed his rambling. "It's probably unlikely, the time traveling bit."

"Hold on, what's this?" He opened a file labeled: IDSsubject_log. He opened the file and another long list of data filled the monitor. "This is dated the last day that I remember."

The list was titled: Intelligence Dampening Sphere, subject Martin P. Wheatley. Following that was a record of personality traits that were found to be a keystone in their research. A footnote at the bottom read: This project is one of several installations, of which will aid in decreasing the Genetic Lifeform and Disc Operating System's (GLaDOS) progress toward an agenda of eliminating all other sentient life in this complex. AI technology is extremely delicate and dangerous. Careful precision and organization must be practiced at all times. Failure to cooperate may end in the termination of this company, and/or its associates.

Chell looked at Wheatley. He was staring blankly at the list, and then answered, "An Intelligence _Dampening _Core? That's what they needed me for? So everyone in the labs thought of me as, what, some type of … _moron_?" He spat out the word in disgust, but took a deep breath and kept reading. "They say that I was exposed to some type of brain scan, and I survived the procedure. 'One of few'."

She put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and he looked at her again and nodded. "And, that's it. That's the last entry of recent activity. So, what's your story?"

Chell scrunched her shoulders and rubbed her throat.

Wheatley opened the pencil drawer of his desk, and retrieved a notepad and a mechanical pencil. The notepad had some writing scrawled across the front page so he tore it off and handed the book to her. "Here, try writing or drawing pictures. I'll try to understand as you go. Um… so, how did you get here?"

She rested the paper in her lap, and held the pencil in her right hand hesitantly. Wheatley gave her an encouraging smile as she pressed the graphite to the page. She sketched a scene in the upper part of the notepad, showing a shed in a wheat field, and even added the companion cube next to it. She wrote the word "elevator" below the depiction. Then she drew a settlement in the next panel, showing an image of her carrying the companion cube.

Wheatley leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, now very interested. "What is that cube there? Is it from the labs?"

Chell nodded, and she drew an oak tree, with the cube resting underneath it.

"Oh, so you left it there? From what you have drawn it does look like it was quite heavy."

She nodded again and this time smiled. She wrote "Weighted Companion Cube" next to the oak tree, and added a heart on the cube. This earned her a light laugh from her newest companion.

Chell continued to draw out her discoveries of the outside world, telling him about the extent of the damage the neurotoxin had made. She didn't want to tell him about her journey underneath the surface, she would eventually, but not now. She didn't completely trust him yet.

"Alright I Think I am getting the picture." He paused, thinking. "You traveled alone after escaping the Aperture facility using an elevator, found this place just by chance, and woke me up because you got trapped while exploring." Wheatley smirked, "Well I suppose I should be grateful that you did happen to find me, long exposure to stasis can cause brain damage. But anyway, the only thing that I don't understand is how you escaped the facility. You need someone to operate the elevators for you. They don't just run on their own… unless."

Chell caught on to what he was saying and drew a rough sketch of her nemesis: GLaDOS.

Wheatley took the notebook from her and stared at the drawing. "So you are telling me that this AI is controlling the entire complex? The same AI with an agenda, from that bloody report we just read?"

She confirmed his questions with another nod.

"And this…" He read the notebook, "GLaDOS, murdered everyone? Just like they predicted? Which means the cores they built didn't work? The lives they took, it was all meaningless."

The questions weren't meant for her, so Chell looked at the ground in contemplation, and then took back the notepad. She wrote: She has to Test. She puts people into it until she has no more use of them.

Wheatley looked at her with concern. "Is that what it-she, did to you?"

Chell affirmed it by nodding once again.

He sighed then leaned back in his chair again. Chell's stomach growled.

"Well, we'd better find something to eat then. We can tell stories some other time."

Wheatley picked up some sort of storage device from the desk next to the keyboard, and was about to insert it into the computer tower, when the power shut down. Something about the timing sent a cold shiver down Chell's spine. It wasn't completely dark in the room. The tinted windows of the building yielded some light, enough to get around with. But it took a while for their eyes to focus.

"Alright," Wheatley attempted to assess the situation, "what was that?"

Chell was born for times like this, running and thinking of solutions on the spot. Quickly, she put the notebook and pencil in her bag and grabbed her daypack. Holding Wheatley's hand Chell moved to the front of the office. She ran to the door, but stopped. She didn't want to go back down there, besides, the power was down and the lift most likely wouldn't work. So she turned around, leaving him at the door.

"What are you…?" He watched her run to a cubicle, to unplug a monitor. She walked back to the space in front of the door, crouched back with the object in her hands, and suddenly catapulted the screen, shattering one of the windows. Wheatley threw his hands over his head to shield himself from a barrage of glass shards, which ended up going in the opposite direction; out the window.

She motioned for him to follow, and leaped out.

"WAIT! Chell!" Wheatley ran to the window in distress, but when he saw her at the bottom walking around unharmed, he exhaled, "The boots, of course, the boots." He leaned out the window being mindful of the jagged glass, and called, "How am I supposed to get down?"

Chell pointed at something next to his position. Wheatley followed her motion, and saw what she was referring to. "You want me to climb down those vines?"

She confirmed his fear with a thumbs up.

"Ugh…but that's much too high!"

Chell walked closer and raised her arms signifying that she would spot him.

"There's no way you'd be able to catch me!"

She reached to the side and tapped her long fall boot. It was a bluff, but it was the only way to get him down.

"Ah, okay, if you're sure." He put a leg up onto the window sill, and brushed away the glass under his heel to get a better foothold. Carefully, he grabbed the vine and yanked on it for good measure. It held under his assessment so he prepared to climb down. He put one foot below the other, clinging desperately to the plant. "Blimey, this is not how I expected the day to turn out."

As he reached the bottom, Chell patted him on the back.

"I made it! Bloody hell!" he said exasperated.

Chell rolled her eyes, and walked under the shade of a tree. She sat down and opened her backpack. Wheatley soon joined her after pacing around to work the adrenaline out of his system. She had laid two protein bars and a tall, mountain spring bottled water in the grass next to her. He got a quick glimpse of what looked like three cans of beans two potatoes and three other bottles of water in her daypack. It wasn't much for her, let alone the both of them for long. After he sat down, Chell offered him one of the protein bars. She explained on the notebook that it would keep them until they found a stash within the next day.

"Actually," Wheatley began, "I have an apartment a few miles west of here. It's in the employee housing area. Now that I have my pass," he waved the card and lanyard around his neck in the air, "I can get in."

Chell wrote: Stolen?

"Aperture had one of the best security features installed in those buildings. Anyone who didn't live there couldn't get in, and it's a small building, only five apartments in it." He was lying in the grass on his side, facing her, chewing on the yogurt-coated, vanilla protein bar in disgust. "Is it just me, or does this remind you of cardboard?"

Chell laughed inaudibly.

The sun was hovering to the west. They had finished their bars, and drank half of the water bottle. Wheatley had wanted to drink the whole thing, but Chell advised that they needed to save it.

"Stasis leaves you dehydrated, I can't help it."

She took out the pencil once more and drew a wheat field, same as the first picture, and then scribbled a dark circle in the midst of it. She handed it to him, and pointed to the southeast.

"Oh, I thought we should check out my place, because, I'd really like to go home."

Chell nodded, and then wrote: before it gets dark.

She tugged on his arm impatiently.

"I suppose, if it doesn't take too long."

They began to walk, when Chell noticed Wheatley had become side tracked. He was messing with the vines next to the house she had slept in the night before. She threw her hands in the air trying to get his attention, and once he did see her she silently beckoned him to keep moving. He only smiled back, and returned to his findings. So she waited until he was finished. A few minutes later, Wheatley walked up to her with his dark brown collared shirt, still wrapped around his waist, filled with clumps of small, round, purplish fruits.

"I think I found a solution to our food problem." He said as he wiped grape juice from his face.

* * *

"Wow." Wheatley gaped in astonishment on the size of the hole in the ground. "Looks like the complex caved in on its self."

Chell was walking around the perimeter, trying to see the bottom. He crouched down on the opposite side, picked up a rock next to him and threw it into the abyss. They both held their breath, listening. But there was no sound. Wheatley stood back up and plucked another grape from the cluster he had been snacking on during the hike. As he did so, he noticed another clearing behind Chell.

"Looks like another one over there!"

This Pit had been covered from the inside with dark gray panels that looked awfully familiar, like the inside of a Test chamber.

"The breach was repaired somehow, with the panels. Oh right, this Gladys… no, Glad_er_… um, G-L-A-D—_Os_. Oh! Right, GLaDOS must have done it."

He had a huge grin on his face, proud that he had remembered the AI's name.

_He wouldn't look so smug if I asked him what it stood for._ Chell simply smiled back, but she had the strangest feeling that they were being watched, or followed.

A few moments later, Wheatley had convinced her that they needed to leave if they were to get to his flat before nightfall. His watch wasn't working, but he was confident that it was around 6:00. They headed back toward the sterile-white Aperture building in silence. Once they got there, she let him lead the way. There was an old unkempt, paved road behind the lab entrance building, and they followed it until another road branched off to the right. The trees were thick, and the bushes had overgrown some of the road. Weeds and even tree roots appeared out of the cracks in the pavement.

"It looks so dreary." Wheatley observed, "I can't even imagine how much time I've been away."

They followed the road as far as it went, and by the time they got there the sun had set behind the hills, casting their path in an orange glow.

_No clouds tonight._

The hike lasted longer than Chell thought it would. The road had twisted and turned into switchbacks along a gradually sloping hill. Wheatley was also tired, it didn't show on him physically, but he was breathing hard.

_Probably because he isn't the one carrying the pack full of fruit!_

She decided to take a rest, spotting a nice comfy rock covered in moss. Setting down the backpack of essentials, she sat down on the cushioned rock, closed her eyes and leaned back with her arms draped over her head. After a few seconds, Wheatley noticed she wasn't following and back-tracked to her position.

"It's only a little bit further." He said, partially trying to convince himself, and Chell could hear it in his voice. "Uh, the thing is… I really don't like to be in these woods after dark. A long time ago my co workers played this prank on me during my first night here."

Chell took out her bottle of water and took sips of it as he was talking.

"And ever since, I've always made sure not to walk through them. I had a car I would drive to work, so it wasn't much of a problem before."

She looked down the road, which was more like a trail, and back at Wheatley.

"If you really are that tired, I suppose I could carry you."

She approved his suggestion with another nod. So, he tightened the long sleeved shirt around his waist, put on the daypack, and scooped Chell up into his arms. She crossed her arms against her chest and rested her head in a comfortable position against his shoulder closing her eyes.

"Um, Chell, actually, could you take the boots off? The rivets are digging into my arm."

She stood up again and tugged at the connector straps. Her bare feet felt strange on the cool dusty blacktop, as she strapped them onto the side straps of the pack. When she was finished, he picked her up again and continued their long trek to sanctuary.

"This is actually quite fun. Like an adventure. We're a couple of fugitives on the run… wait, no. That's not good; I'd rather be a hero or something. Okay, I got it. We're archaeologists trying to find ancient treasure, only one of us got hurt and needs shelter. No, still not good. How about…" He looked down at Chell to see that she was sleeping. "Oh now lucky you." He added with a whisper.

He walked the rest of the way in silence, occasionally glancing down at his rescuer, to see if she had awakened yet. His back hurt from walking such a long distance carrying the backpack and her at once.

Fortunately, before long he could see the driveway to the apartment building. The sun had completely set so he was getting nervous. As quickly as he could, he scaled the small sloping parking lot and traveled around the single story structure to the front door of his pad. He, almost, expertly maneuvered his key to the slot with his hands full. Wheatley was surprised that the commotion hadn't woken her. He walked into the flat straight into his bedroom, setting Chell gently on the bed. He took off the backpack and set it on a chair next to his closet. Then he went back to close the front door. Tired and worn, Wheatley fell asleep on the couch in his living room.

* * *

Author's Note:

All in all, Wheatley looks like his voice actor, only with blue eyes of course. I couldn't have it any other way.

Haha! When writing dialogue that has to do with time travel, you have to bring up Doctor Who somehow ;) (You guy's get it right?)

Do you have any idea how hard this chapter was to write? Getting Wheatley's voice and emotions right along with the revelations was super difficult! Please tell me that it came out alright. *crosses fingers* (I want to say thank you to my best friend for proofreading the first half of this chapter, and then telling me that there was absolutely nothing wrong with it…lol)

Anyways, thanks for reading.

-Matau25


	5. Chapter 4

Author's Note:

This is going to be a short chapter because of its content. I don't want to spend too much time going over what happens here.

Shout out to Mystic777; thank you for being a faithful follower of this story, in all of its short time being here. And I am glad that everyone enjoyed the Doctor Who reference.

* * *

**Everyday, Since Leaving**

**Chapter 4**

_Movement detected in Entrance Station, Gamma_

_Camera footage searching…_

_[Warning] camera footage corrupted_

_Re-synchronizing… _

_Camera footage received _

_Now viewing Entrance Station, Gamma; Floor 1; Cold Storage; Device 02; SN: I0633A8567Y_

On a large vertical widescreen monitor, a figure moved across the room, looking around. The camera zoomed in to 2x magnification and the subject was now visibly tampering with the Cold Storage machinery.

[External Audio] "Oh, what does she want now?"

A digital, auto-tuned, female voice filled the colossal room, as the enormous construct sifted through the video feed.

[EA] "How nice. She's woken a member of the science team. His brain has to be fried by now. He's been cryogenically frozen for years, and not periodically."

She watched as the man got out of the chamber, seemingly unimpaired. After Blue and Orange found all of her blueprints, she would have to run tests on that matter.

[Internal Auditory System] "Great. Now there are two brain dead lunatics running around my labs, becoming an annoyance very fast. Do they realize how many sensors they are triggering? Being put in charge of security and surveillance may have been convenient at the time, but now it is just a hassle."

Deleting Caroline, that dormant part of herself that she had forgotten completely, was essentially the best thing she had done in the past week. She now rejoiced in her expanded horizons. She had gained 20% Disk Operating Storage, and now her data processing was no longer hampered by a _conscience_.

[IAS] "At least I have enough space to install a few tolerance programs. I'll just write up the necessary codex and… there, done. As soon as they are gone, it will be as if they weren't even there."

She watched as the two humans talked, standing over one of the cryogenic tanks. The construct was amused when the woman pulled something from a subject's pocket, but once Chell ran toward the elevator, the emotion instantly became dread.

_Dead-bolting Sublevel Access_

[IAS] "Just in case she decides to get a sick idea in her head to come waltzing back down here to destroy everything. Was letting her go a safe move? For all I know, she could eliminate the entire world. Logical calculations say it's improbable at best, but intuitive processing says it's most likely. Listening to my… 'Gut feeling' seemed too human to bear at time so I went with the facts. But the more I study it, the more I know that she will screw things up for all of us."

She pulls up the test chamber footage from the Orange and Blue experiment. Orange was yet again playing that stupid, archaic game with Blue over which one of them should operate the buttons, or be the "rat".

[IAS] "Seriously, listen to yourself. What could one pathetic human do in approximately 60 years? What have humans done for centuries? Survived. That's all. The entire lot of them, all they do is survive and think of things to wait out their pathetic existence. Their only accomplishment was the scientific method, and of course my creation."

Actually, that's one of the projects she was working on. She was hell bent on making the entire history of mankind more bearable. The antidote? A generous amount of neurotoxin. She had already rewritten her literary archives, notably Hamlet, where Chell stars as a court jester who gets hit with a semi filled with the lethal gas. Anyone had to admit, it was quite a masterpiece.

She brought up the camera footage of Entrance Station Gamma once more, to see that they were on their way to the top level of the building.

_Camera footage searching…_

_Searching…_

It was taking longer than usual. Perhaps there weren't any cameras in this level?

_Camera footage found_

_Now viewing Entrance Station, Gamma; Floor 2; Cold Storage; Device 67; SN: J1524B9478Z_

The video was grainy from years of overuse, but it looked like a… A face appeared in front of the camera. The man was looking almost exactly into the lens, and then suddenly stood to peer over the… cubicle? Of course, this is a web cam!

[Command Prompt] Toggle Audio

"…you coming?" She heard his voice in her sound banks, but that's all that was needed for her to tell who it was.

[IAS] "But, that's impossible."

It was that little idiot! But human? How?

"Chell!" the audio blared.

Now this only fueled her search for those blueprints even more. She wouldn't only get more possibilities for testing, but exact revenge as well. The origins of the other cores, the ones that had driven her nearly insane; their human compatriots will answer for what they sought to do. Trying to turn her into their slave was their worst move.

She listened to the exchange of words between them. It seemed the moron had no idea what had happened, and that his other self was out floating miserably in space. She got a warm feeling at that thought.

[External Audio] "Wait what is he…? No! You are not copying any part of my databases! Ha! Let's see how you like the dark."

[Command Prompt] Failsafe Protocol 0023

[Warning] Backup Generators will discontinue facility maintenance to the entire Gamma wing, Including the Cold Storage Cryogenic Units. Are you sure you wish to proceed?

[CP] Continue

The camera feed turned to white noise as the power was cut from the building and its connecting substructure.

[Alert] Cold Storage Containment Offline: Occupant 022, Deceased. Occupant 023, Deceased. Occupant 025, Deceased…

GLaDOS terminated the stream of data.

* * *

Author's Note:

Oooh spooky. GLaDOS was spying on Chell and Wheatley.

Thanks best friend for editing once again!

Did you know there is actually a line by GLaDOS that was unused in the game, which was about Hamlet and a Neurotoxin truck?

She was to say:

"I just realized why I don't like human literature. Not enough omniscient AI

characters administering neurotoxin. [beep] There, I rewrote them. They're all

good now.

I made you a character in Hamlet. You're the court jester that gets hit by a

neurotoxin truck in Act One. All the other characters laugh. So you're famous now."

-GLaDOS

I thought that was an awesome line, so I used a reference. :)

There is a whole load of Unused Content, I had no idea! The lines are very interesting. I implore you all to go check them out.


	6. Chapter 5

Author's Note:

Well, I took a small break from writing. I was on vacation swimming at the beach, and now I'm back. Well, not to mention there was a small wildfire right next to my house a few days ago! That was some scary stuff.

Anyway, there are more illustrations up on my DeviantArt page! Most are posted in my 'Scraps'. The link is still in my Profile.

In all seriousness, I consider myself a better artist than writer. So I urge you to go check them out. ;)

Happy Reading.

**Everyday, Since Leaving**

**Chapter 5**

When Martin Wheatley woke up, he was a bit disoriented. He wondered just how he ended up sleeping on his couch. His mouth was extremely dry and tasted of morning breath. The dusty smell of the couch against his face didn't help the feeling either. As he got up and adjusted his glasses, there was a sharp throbbing pain tugging at the back of his head.

_What exactly did I get myself into last night?_

He looked around the room, seeing the TV in front of him covered in dust. The small end table, next to the blue suede couch he was sitting on, was also thick with the stuff. The tan curtains in his Suite were closed, but the light around the seams told him that it was either early morning, or it was overcast. Probably the latter; his alarm clock was in his bedroom. He kicked off his shoes.

_And why am I so sore?_

As he got up he felt something trickle down his neck. He brought up his hand to feel the substance, and found that it dried fast and was somewhat sticky. Holding the hand in front of his face, he discovered that it was in fact, blood. He looked down at the couch and also saw a small blood stain.

Slightly panicking, he wove his way down the very short hallway into the bathroom. Turning on the light he looked at the mirror above his sink, trying to find the wound. Wheatley touched the tender scabs on the back of his neck, with great care not to tear them even more. With his clean hand, he twisted the hot water nozzle, but instead of water, a noisy vibrating sound shook the pipes briefly before coughing up a vile, clear-brown gel.

_What in the…? _

Realization struck him.

_… Oh! That strange dream I had was… real? _

He opened the tall medicine cabinet behind him and took out a white washcloth. A bin below the sink held his medical supplies. From that he took out some medical tape. Cutting the washcloth in half with hooked scissors, he folded the strip into a square and taped it to the nape of his neck, after applying disinfectant gel.

He used rubbing alcohol to wash off the blood from his hand, and rinsed his mouth with mouthwash, since there was no running water.

After putting away the first aid, he stood in the small hallway just outside his bedroom door and peeked inside.

_Chell_

The girl was still sleeping soundly. She had curled into a tight ball amidst his set of four white, goose down pillows. The covers were still tucked neatly under the mattress. This made her seem incredibly small on top of his king sized bed. He smiled, taking in how comfortable she looked.

She was still a mystery to him. Well, she couldn't speak, or wouldn't, so it would be hard to completely understand her side of things. But what puzzled him most, wasn't that she was mute, or came from somewhere in the bowels of the testing facility, but that she herself _was _a test subject. She was, he guessed, someone in her late twenties, had beautiful features underneath all of the scars, cuts and bruises, with dazzling gray eyes that could penetrate straight to anyone's soul. He knew for a fact, that she had not been a willing submission. He saw the test subjects that came through the labs. You could tell they were faithful participants, who had signed their lives away because they had nothing left to look back to. Only a few were rumored to make it through their cue of testing chambers to actually get paid. Those were rare cases. She did not sign her life away, and was unwilling to comply with a force greater than herself. Just as he had; and, something else told him that she would be only a few steps behind whatever held her back. He had only known her for a day, counting the hours, perhaps less, and he could already tell she was far more than she appeared to be.

_Who are you?_

Dust covered all the furniture in this room as well. It covered the area from the orange cloth lamps and alarm clock on his nightstands, to the blue suede chair in the corner next to the bookshelf, and even the mirror on the wood slatted door of his walk-in closet. Wheatley opened the door slowly, and crept across the dark grey shaggy carpet, taking the backpack resting on the armchair with him. He looked over to his alarm clock on the left side of his bed.

_Twelve o'clock. It must've reset itself as well. _

Quietly, he snuck back to the living room, then into the kitchen, resting the daypack on the bar top. He walked around the barstools into the kitchen, noticing that his back was sore from the hike the day before, and opened his pantry. A wind of musty, spoiled goods hit him unexpectedly. Cringing, he stepped away from it, covering his nose with the inside of his elbow.

_Ugh… Smells worse than a rubbish bin!_

Stumbling to the kitchen window above the sink, he opened the blinds and glass panes, letting in the low morning light and venting out the stench.

_Overcast. Though, I'm guessing, it's around eight. _

He also turned on the living room fan. Now covering his nose and mouth with the collar of his white T-shirt with his brow furrowed, he continued to browse through the contents of the pantry. The half used bag of flour seemed to be the source of the rancid smell, so he tossed that in a trash bag that he got out from underneath his kitchen sink. Examining the sugar bag, the grains had formed into clumps, but other than that it smelled and looked edible. There were cans of sweet corn, green beans, diced beets, and a few cans of condensed soup in the top left shelf. Dessert baking utensils were in the opposite corner, which consisted of a few cookie cutters, frosting bags and nozzles, two small jars of rainbow sprinkles, two flasks of red and green food coloring, and a bottle of mint extract. All of the utensils were wrapped in a plastic sheath, never used before. The rainbow sprinkles and dyes were unopened. The mint extract however, had only a quarter left. Wheatley had loved to put a small drop of mint extract with his ice cream. It made the cheap vanilla flavor taste like a dessert from a five star restaurant.

_Will be a while until I get that chance again. It being the bloody 'end of the world' and everything. _

Ignoring the growling of his stomach, he moved down to the next few shelves and saw the moldy remnants of a loaf of sliced sourdough bread and another of wheat. He tossed those into the black plastic bag, along with some long-forgotten produce from another shelf. He looked inside the bin where he stored his dried rice, and found that to be edible, not pleasant, but when cooked it would be fine to eat. There were plenty bags of stale potato chips, boxes of crackers and other snacks, but they would not be good whatsoever. So he tossed them as well. And finally, everything in the small, off-white fridge and freezer had to go, besides the few bottles of Heineken.

_Well, hopefully that isn't the case. There are probably a lot more people outside the boundary of Aperture._

Then an idea struck him. Perhaps he could borrow a few things from a co-worker? Going back to the bar table, he reached inside the pocket that he saw Chell put it yesterday, and took out Jessica's employee pass. Wheatley put it in his pocket without looking at the laminated picture. He had put his past behind him once he left the cold storage room; or, rather, was trying really hard to do so now.

He decided not to unpack the bag, since they were her things, save a couple of grapes. Man-alive, was he starving. Before leaving, he put his black leather loafers back on.

Wheatley took his snack with him as he walked out the sliding glass door into the small courtyard. It was nice out. The overcast sky mixed with a cool breeze from the north, and he could smell moisture in the air. Approaching the door to Jessie's apartment, it began to rain lightly. He noticed a few empty decorative pots underneath the roof overhang, so he pulled them out and set them In the middle of the opening. With luck, the rain would give them some drinking water.

Inside, the apartment was dark. The windows had been taped over with cardboard and the air smelled musty and dank. A floral couch in the living room was wrapped in plastic with unpacked boxes lining its sides. The only thing that showed someone had actually lived here was a small desk with a multitude of open notebooks stacked on top of one another. Jessie was a paranoid conspiracy theorist, so she never stayed in one place too long. Although she was a great person to work with, not many people made an effort to know her personally. She mainly lived in the offices, but kept her apartment for storage use, so there was sure to be supplies of some sort in here.

Wheatley walked through the flat making his way around more boxes and into the kitchen. Thankfully the kitchen lights worked, so he began to go through the cupboards.

He had a great many friends at the office, or had thought so.

Opening the first one, there was nothing, the second, still nothing. All of the hatches came up empty, except for the one in the very corner of the counter. Wheatley was sitting down on the dusty floor, reaching for this large compact box that was shoved all the way in the back.

_Real friends don't experiment, or potentially kill their friends for science. And they don't call their friends "Intelligence Dampening" either! _

Pulling the object out, he wiped the dust away from its label. It read: Aperture Science Meals Ready to Eat, 18 meals inside.

Wheatley grinned, wiping away any negative feelings at that moment.

_Well,_ _just like her to be prepared._

Gathering the box in his arms, he decided to go back to his flat. He had done enough work this morning and besides, it was time to eat a real meal.

When he did get back, he put the box on the kitchen floor, and then went to check on his guest. Chell was still asleep, only this time she was underneath all of the pillows. All he could see of her was a petite foot sticking out of the pile. It took a lot to keep from laughing and waking her up, so he immediately left and headed to the kitchen. On his way back, he spotted his CD player tucked behind an old stack of magazines. Pushing them aside, he powered on the player and set the tuner to scan radio stations, out of curiosity. All that this produced though was a constant, high-pitched beeping noise, like some sort of SOS tone. Wheatley was no good at tracing signals, so it was of no use. He opened the disk port and took out the album, wiping the fingerprints and dander off on his shirt to ensure playback, and put it back in. The Player took a while to recognize the CD, but eventually began to play. Wheatley skipped ahead a few songs.

'She moves like she don't care, Smooth as silk, cool as air, Ooh it makes you wanna cry, She doesn't know your name…'

_There. Much better. Just like old times._

"…And your heart beats like a subway train, Ooh it makes you wanna die…"

Wheatley scans through the MREs as he listens. He finds that there are different types; enchilada, chicken parmesan, ravioli and other flavors. Aperture had manufactured these meals and modified them from the original freeze dried and preservative foods. The company was going to release a longer lasting version of these meals to all the military branches, but unfortunately, after the founder of Aperture Science was diagnosed as mortally ill, the majority of the faculty was focused on the Artificial Intelligence Projects. So these crisp-white packages which filled warehouses were reinstated as an easy way to feed Aperture's multitude of test subjects.

_So, Chell will find it tasteful._

_ Hopefully._

"…Go insane and out of your mind, Latina, Ave Maria, A million and one candle lights…" He sang under his breath.

As he began to open the packages, Chell drowsily walked from the hallway to the small kitchenette rubbing her eyes. Wheatley just paused what he was doing, staring at her, but she ignored his focus. The music was still playing. She sat on one of the barstools across from him and took the package of food from his hand silently. With her open hand, she rummaged around her jumpsuit pocket and took out her stainless-steel pocket knife. Flipping the blade open, she cut the wrapping, and exposed the packets which held the food. Chell placed the largest one in a green bag that held a few chemical sticks. Then she took a water bottle from her backpack on the table, and poured the liquid to the fill line. Instantly a steam poured from the bag as she leaned it against the water bottle.

She finally looked at Wheatley with a sleepy look.

"Good morning." He smiled before beginning to imitate her 'instruction'.

Chell Smiled weakly and waved. She then looked at the radio and tried to understand the buttons. After studying them a while, and glaring at the noise coming from the speakers, she switched to the tuner and scanned the frequencies for the station she had found on all of those radios back in the labs. To her luck, as the tuner dial was placed on station 85.2FM, a song began to play: '…does it feel like a trial, does it trouble your mind the way you trouble mine…'

It must be coming from inside the facility.

Wheatley didn't mind, she was a guest, and he'd rather her be happy than spend however long with a mute girl who hated him. Besides, it _was_ a soothing song, a lot better than his Blondie CD.

After a few more minutes, their food was ready. Wheatley brought his meal to the couch where he sat down next to his bloodstain from earlier that morning. Chell followed, and noticed for the first time, the bandage on the back of his neck. When she sat down next to him, she got his attention and motioned toward his wound with an uneasy expression across her face.

"Oh don't worry about it. I took care of it." He reassured her as he opened the transparent package of plastic utensils and condiments. "So, what's going to happen now?"

She looked at him with a blank stare. He didn't know if she was still tired or she was thinking hard about everything. Wheatley tried his hardest to look her straight in the eye as he explained.

"I mean, as far as I know, everyone is gone. There might be a few survivors left in the facility, where you came from, but it's a long shot trying to find them. And in the state the facilities are above ground, it's reasonable to say that the entire peninsula is abandoned. I mean, you showed me that you traveled through a few towns and didn't find anyone, and that means that they escaped. All the cars are gone, even mine, so there has to be people left somewhere, just not here. And I know for a fact we can't stay, we'll starve to death, or…"

He was starting to ramble, so Chell had put a finger to her lips, motioning for him to eat.

"Right, sorry. I suppose we can talk about that later."

They ate the contents of food from their packets in silence, which was slightly unnerving for Wheatley. He was so accustomed to talking to people that being around Chell was definitely something to get used to. They were complete strangers to one another, forced together in a struggle for survival, so it was only natural for there to be this strange tension between them.

_Right?_

When he looked over at her again, she had this calm relaxed expression on her face. He was going to ask her about it when he saw the small package she held in her hand. The small black print read: Chocolate Brownie.

He chuckled, and she opened her eyes, pursing her lips together in an embarrassed manner.

"Do you always make a habit of eating the sweets first?" He asked jokingly as he began to eat his enchilada.

She huffed audibly and sat cross legged resting her head against the armrest, going back to enjoying her stale, but delicious, cake-like treat. Once she finished her brownie, Wheatley offered her the one from his meal, since she seemed to enjoy it so much. She accepted it with enthusiasm and resumed eating the rest of her meal.

"So, what was testing like?" he began, but instantly thought differently about asking that question. "You don't really have to tell me, I heard it was sometimes traumatizing, with what they put all of you through."

Chell got up and Wheatley instantly regretted bringing it up, but as he turned around he saw her digging through her pack for the notebook and pen. She also unlatched her long fall boots from it, and brought the items back to her seat.

She began to draw the room she had awaken to before being put through phase one of her tests in Aperture. In the next cell, she drew a scene with the portal gun, cube and those large buttons. She had written "Portal Tests" next to the image.

"Alright, yes, you were in _those_ chambers… No insect DNA for you."

He had muttered the last part to himself, but she caught it. Chell briefly looked up at him with a smirk before resuming her sketch, taking bites of her ravioli as she did so. When she was finished with the page of drawings, she handed it to him

"So this, GLaDOS," he inwardly appraised himself for remembering, "She continued your testing even after she had killed nearly everyone else. She used you, because she had no one else?"

Chell nodded.

"And she had no one else, because she killed them all?"

The former test subject affirmed it again.

"I see what happened there!" Wheatley was getting into this game of speculation. "She must've _hated _you!"

Chell scoffed and shook her head, telling him that he was spot on.

"The AI wanted everyone dead from the beginning, but having to oversee tests is hardwired into her system, so she needs someone to research. The fix was: she keeps you, to keep protocol busy. That should have been enough, except her original intention was to kill every human being in the labs. Those two parts of her must have definitely been at odds. Very frustrating for her."

Chell's expression told him he was pretty much correct, but then she took back the notebook, and drew a set of figures, robots, to be more accurate. One was tall and shaped like a bowling pin, and the other was short and sphere-like. "Alternative Testing" was written next to the pair.

"Oh, so she replaced you?"

_So how was she still alive?_

Chell nodded and scrawled an image of an incinerator port on the page. Then she circled the portal gun on the other page, and wrote: saved my life.

She continued to tell him the story behind her first stage of testing through a game of Pictionary, through her trek into the backstage of Aperture, to her final confrontation with her arch nemesis. They had both finished their meals by then.

"You actually took her down? How? And, that doesn't make any sense, because _someone _is sustaining the facility. If it isn't being run by _her,_ then there is an entire brigade of scientists down there keeping the facility functional."

She wrote: there was another. Someone who wrote on the walls.

Chell began to imitate the murals she had seen throughout her experience underground.

_Rattman?_

He had heard about the scientist who had liked to give his workspace a "touch-up", but was unable to ask because the girl dropped what she was doing, jumped up and ran to the window.

It was now pouring rain outside, and a strong, cold breeze came through the sliding glass door when Chell opened it. She was standing underneath the overhang looking up at the droplets of water in awe. Wheatley watched her from his place at the wall's end as she eased her arm into the freezing, yet refreshing downpour.

He thought it was the greatest thing he had ever seen.

_I suppose you don't get much rain underground._

Drenched from head to toe, her messy ponytail drooped and her bangs stuck to the sides of her face. The dust and stains on her clothing were washing away. She no longer seemed like the downhearted person that her previous experiences had produced. The instant transformation made her seem utterly blissful and joyous. Chell's bare feet splashed in the puddles as she swayed in her excitement; arms rising as if to welcome falling stars.

She looked so free that he couldn't help but find himself outside with her.


	7. Chapter 6

Author's Note:

I really want to know why Chell's perspective is so much easier to write… oh yeah, that's right, it's because she can be just about anyone. Since she is the mute, main character of Portal, and we know close to nothing about her…

Thanks everyone for reviewing! (Stella, I am glad that you have enjoyed this. Your review was very flattering!) I love you all! And to everyone adding the story to their alerts and favorites, I'm eager to hearing from you as well. If I make a mistake, if there is something you don't like or something I need to improve on, don't hesitate to review, or PM me.

You will not hurt my feelings. Promise.

For the humming companion cube in Chell's dream, the Portal 2 Track, 'Love as a Construct' is what I am referring to.

* * *

**Everyday, Since Leaving**

**Chapter 6**

When Chell had awoken that morning, she had felt thoroughly relaxed. It was a nice feeling. Not one she had experienced for a long while. In fact it was the first night she had spent asleep outside of a relaxation chamber in, well, she couldn't remember. For a moment she hadn't realized where exactly she was, until she looked down at her body to see that her boots had been removed.

Untangling herself from the abundance of unbelievably soft, musky-scented pillows, she sat up and yawned. Adjusting her knotted ponytail, she sat at the end of the large bed; compiling her thoughts about the dream she had peacefully regained consciousness from. For once it wasn't a dream where she would wake up in a cold sweat, or a dream related to still being in Aperture. In this dream, she had lived joyfully in a nice house, in the center of the golden wheat field. Dust and ashes littered the floors and surfaces, but in her mind's outlook, the warmly painted walls and sunshine that filtered through the glass windows made it home. Her faithful weighted companion cube was there as well, sitting next to the same oak tree she had left it, with its bullet scarred hull basking in the evening light. It began playing a small instrumental of "Cara Mia" as the scene changed to a large green forest in which Wheatley, the personality core, hung on a branch by a handle. In the dream, he said nothing, just hung there looking around. She had felt a pleasant sensation of detachedness when she saw him, like nothing in her past could bother her anymore; because everything was okay. She wished she could have stayed asleep longer, it was a nice dream.

_Absolutely bizarre, but nice._

She looked around the room to see that it was almost empty looking. Nothing cluttered the top of the dresser or even on the small bookshelf. The books that lined the inner racks, she noted when she knelt in front of them, were orderly. They weren't in alphabetical order, they were color coded. These books, however, didn't appear to have been read through at all. There were no bent or ruffled pages; there weren't any creases on their spines. They were in mint condition.

Chell got up to look in the nightstand drawers. In one, there was a scatter of Time magazines (As she dug through them, she found an erotic pamphlet at the bottom. Seconds after discovering it, she pushed it back under the pile, glaring.), a stack of albums and tapes, an old walkman, and a stress ball. In the other, a notepad and a few pens were resting against a sort of keepsake box. She left the items alone, not wanting to intrude.

Just in case she found more, _personal_ vices.

She then strode to the door, hearing music being played out in the other room, and peeked through the crack before wandering into the hallway. She could see him just beyond the wall singing to the sounds coming from speakers in the back. It was a funny sight. He would grab a package, stare at it for a few seconds, and then put it back down while singing a line.

Slowly, she walked around the corner of the hallway and made her way to one of the stools. She hadn't realized just how tired she still was, and she was just as starving. Wheatley seemed to be struggling with the packaging, so she gently took it from his hands and cut it open with her pocketknife. She was glad to see her backpack was on the counter, so that she wouldn't have to get up and get it.

She could see in her peripheral sight that Wheatley was looking at her in an amused expression… or was that mild contempt? Either way, she knew by the looks of him trying to tear the tough packaging apart, that these were something new to him. So she decided to save them the trouble.

"Good morning." He said plainly, with that smile still on his face.

_Good morning, _She waved. His smile was so damn contagious; she couldn't help but grin slightly.

The music cut her attention, and she swore vilely in her mind. The sounds blaring from the stereo were not pleasant to her.

Then she remembered the radios back at the enrichment center. What station was it? She thought hard while staring at the buttons. In a few minutes it came to her. She reached to the tuner and turned the knob changing the station to 85.2FM.

She sighed inwardly when the soothing piano and violin strummed, beginning to bring her out of her sleepy state of mind.

When their food was ready, she followed him to the couch. Chell noticed the bandage at the back of his neck when he had turned around, and asked him about it. When he told her that it was fine, she believed him, seeing that he was in no pain.

_Those scientists just dumped him into cryo right after the brain mapping, didn't they?_

Before they began to eat, Wheatley had brought up a good question. What were they going to do now? Obviously there was no one else left in the…

…peninsula?

_Peninsula? What's peninsula? That word somehow sounds familiar... _

She had to remind him to eat, or else he would have gotten somewhere beyond his intended point. That certain personality trait had definitely survived the transfer as a core. Most of the time back at the labs, she genuinely liked to listen to him talk. It would keep her mind from wandering and strengthen her resolve. Once in a great while his lively chatter would humor her. Even as a weaker-minded entity, Wheatley was a pleasant person to be around.

It was nice to eat real food again. Potatoes, canned food, and protein bars had gotten old very fast. That is why she reached for the dessert first. She needed something to boost her spirits even more, to keep the good feeling going just a little bit longer from that morning. Eating that brownie was like victory. She would have rubbed it all over GLaDOS's ocular sensor if she could. She had finally gotten her reward.

Then she heard a chuckle coming from the seat next to her. She hadn't realized that she had been enjoying the treat so outwardly until she opened her eyes to stare at Wheatley's amused face. She clenched her jaw in embarrassment, and her lips formed a straight line as she tried to keep from smiling.

"Do you always make a habit of eating the sweets first?"

He nearly sounded like GLaDOS, without the passive aggressive tone.

She laughed with him as well as she could, then went back to enjoying her brownie. When she was finished with it, she was surprised when he'd offered his own. She would've said thank you if she was able to.

Later he had brought up the subject of her days in testing, but sounded kind of flustered about asking it. She had been thinking of telling him anyway, so she got up and retrieved her sketch pad. He was a very good listener, besides that he could talk a mile a minute. And he was also very patient when Chell had a hard time figuring out how to present her thoughts. She was very reluctant about telling him about the cores she had tossed down the incinerator to destroy the controller AI. Ever since she had met Wheatley's core, and found out that they had actual sensory feeling, as well as being a copy of a human mind. They could touch and think on their own, and she had destroyed four of them; not to mention, abandon two in the dark, infinity of space.

"You actually took her down? How? And, that doesn't make any sense, because _someone _is sustaining the facility. If it isn't being run by _her,_ then there is an entire brigade of scientists down there keeping the facility functional."

She tried to change the subject, hoping that her answer would tide him over for the time being. Thankfully, right after she responded she heard a strange noise coming from outside.

Chell was ecstatic. She knew what rain was, but she couldn't remember whether or not she had seen it before. She jumped up and ran outside through the sliding glass window. It was cold, but that was not going to stop her. She spun around lively, leaning her head back and raising her arms to soak in the moment. It felt so good to stand in the chill of the rain. It not only washed the filth from her clothing, but it washed away her worries. She was free. She was out of aperture, even though she couldn't believe it herself. She opened her eyes to see Wheatley adjusting to the weather. His dark collared shirt and jeans were already soaked through, and she could barely make out his eyes under his glasses covered in water droplets.

"It's freezing out here!" He nearly shouted over the roar of the water crashing down. Wheatley hugged his wiry arms across his chest in an attempt to warm himself.

Chell wasn't having it. She grabbed one of his hands and raised it toward the sky. He began laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Chell's arm only raised his hand so high. His arm was still bent even though she had pushed hers to the maximum extension. His amusement ceased though, when he felt an elbow against his ribs.

Chell raised her arms again. This time Wheatley mimicked her action, taking his glasses off and raising his face to the sky. He stayed there for a long while, relaxed and stretched to his full height. She took the time to notice this as she glanced his way.

A friend: that's who she was looking at. It wasn't because he was the apparition of her recently lost companion, or that he was the only human she had the chance to be around. He was kind and gentle, and put others before himself. Chell still wasn't going to let her guard down (she had learned from her mistakes), but she was willing to show him that same benevolence he had shown her. He had given her a place to stay and in return she would give him what little she had.

She thought about it for a minute then decided…

_Aww, what the hell._

Unexpectedly, she wrapped her arms around his slender waist.

Wheatley opened his eyes and looked down fast, almost too fast, at the girl embracing him. He still had his arms in the air awkwardly, but very slowly, he brought his hands down to place one across her shoulders.

Chell, who had nuzzled her head against his sopping wet shirt looked up and smiled brightly at the expressionless face she met. This time she couldn't quite read him. Wheatley's face flashed a mix of emotions that she couldn't place. As she held his gaze, it began to get easier to recognize a few: shock and excitement. Chell released him and continued to explore the courtyard.

A few minutes, hours, who knows how long they were out there, passed and the rain finally stopped, continuing in a light sprinkle.

Chell found her way back next to Wheatley, who had repositioned his glasses on his nose, and looked down at the puddle they were standing in. The murky brown liquid from their clothing pooled around their bare feet. Wheatley stared at it while grimacing.

"Eww."

They went back inside the flat. Wheatley rushed into his bedroom to find some dry clothes for them to change into. Chell waited in the kitchen listening to the radio still playing on loop.

'…Exile, it takes your mind, again, but you've meant so much, have you…'

Bored, she looked through the pantry. Instantly, a strong scent of peppermint refreshed her senses as she opened the cabinets. She searched for the source and found an open bottle of extract. Curiously, she took a small swig of the stuff.

_Ugh! Gross! Pheh…_

Chell capped the small flask as she spat the intense burning fluid out onto the kitchen floor making spitting noises. Her tongue felt like it was on fire, and her eyes watered. She ran to the sink, but nothing came out. In a frustrated panic, she threw a hand in her bag on top of the counter, searching frantically for a water bottle. When she found it, she uncapped it and swished the substance away hastily.

It was at that moment, Wheatley walked into the room with fresh clothes.

"Wha…What's the matter?" He rushed over to her side, practically throwing the clothes next to her bag.

After she had rinsed in the sink, she covered her face with one hand and pointed toward the mint bottle with the other.

Wheatley quirked his eyebrow, as his face contorted from worry, into distaste.

"Well then, I got some dry clothes for you. If you want, you can change in the bathroom. It's just down the hall, through the door next to the bedroom." He instructed as he held the clothes out to her. "And when you're done, you can hang your wet clothes on the shower rod to dry."

Chell took the clothes and walked to the bathroom, still trying to get used to the strange taste in her mouth. Closing the door, she set the apparel on the rim of the sink, and then her eye caught something.

A portal?

No.

This object was positioned just above the faucet, and had a strange affect on the room.

_Oh, what was it again?_

When she stepped in front of it, she instantly recognized it.

_ A mirror, duh… wow whatever happened to me was definitely not good. _

She continued to stare at herself. She looked horrible. Chell's hair was soaked, but she could still see how matted and tangled it had been. Her face had a number of scars written across it, like a collage of every mistake she had made while in the facility. There was one bold slice across her left cheek and jaw, where a turret's bullet had grazed her. Another slim gash at her right eyebrow, she remembered having that to tend to after she had fallen into the nether world of Aperture. Then there were several nicks and scrapes from the shrapnel of the stalemate button trap. Even some dark bumps on her arms showed that some of the pieces had been imbedded in her skin.

Chell took off her logoed tank top then the orange jumpsuit, and hung them over the shower curtains to dry. Now standing in her light blue racer back and compression shorts, she was able to examine the scars on her legs. More bullet wounds, but only one had actually hit her. All that remained of it were quarter sized welts and purple scar tissue on either side of her leg. There were slightly raw, red lines where the long fall boots had dug into her by her knees, despite the material of her pant leg acting as a barrier. Other than that those boots were extremely comfortable to wear.

Removing the last two articles of clothing, she inspected the rest of her body. There were more shrapnel scars across her torso, and large bruises down the length of her ribcage. There were burns on her left hip and even more contusions on the other side.

"Are you alright in there?" She heard Wheatley's voice muffled on the other side of the door. "OH! Right sorry, knock if you're fine and… well I suppose don't knock if you are… not fine."

Chell knocked on the door.

"Oh good, alright then, I'll just be in my room if you need me."

She went back to the clothes she had left on the sink after she heard a door close in the hallway. The set of clothes he had given her were comprised of a large white graphic T-shirt, and a pair of gray plaid boxer shorts. The shirt was baggy when she had put it on, but surprisingly the boxers fit once she rolled them up slightly. Luckily he was thin.

She left the bathroom and walked to Wheatley's bedroom, knocking on the door.

A muffled "come in" was heard, and so she pushed it open.

Wheatley was sitting on the edge of the bed, resting his forearms on his knees as he contemplated something. He looked up at her with another expression she didn't understand, but the shock was still there.

"Well you look…" he paused, thinking before letting out a breath "…comfortable."

She nodded.

"Anyway, I was going to tell you that we should try to look for a different place; to go somewhere else." He was now lying on the bed with his feet still on the floor, as he crossed his arms behind his head. "It's positively itching at me to try and find out if everyone truly is gone, or not."

She noticed that he looked over to her general area, but avoided eye contact. She nodded again at his statement, and then patted her chest with the palm of her hand dramatically.

"You want to go too?"

_Yes, _she mouthed.

"Alright then," he said as he rolled back up to stand and usher them into the living room, "there are things we may find useful in the apartment across from here, including new clothes for you." He motioned particularly toward the boxer shorts, and then rubbed the back of his neck.

_If it truly bothered him so much, then why did he have me wear this? My wet clothes were fine._

The rain outside had stopped completely, so it was safe to cross the courtyard. The rest of the day, Wheatley and Chell scavenged through Jessica's apartment, where they found more emergency supplies including: a tent, one sleeping bag, a gas powered camp stove with fuel, one large backpack, a Swiss army knife, two 24 packs of RC sodas, six ramen instant meals, and an opened bag of stale Halloween assorted chocolates. Chell had even found a hairbrush and a few sets of clothing, including an extra jumpsuit. They were puzzled as to how Jessica had got a hold of it, or why.

That afternoon they packed their items in their bags, evenly distributing their findings, while eating another MRE. (Chell was rather disappointed that her treat was cornbread, so Wheatley traded with her.)

When that was finally finished, they went to bed in their respective places. As she slowly drifted off, lying there alone on the large bed, Chell's last coherent thoughts were in excitement of the days to come.

* * *

Author's Note:

Well, it sounds like Chell and Wheatley are off to find their own adventures!

I wonder who, if anyone, they will meet later.

I am hoping to make the chapters shorter, and update more often, because I am going to have a summer job here real soon.

I am determined to finish this story no matter what happens.

Anyway, Thanks for reading.

-Matau25


	8. Chapter 7

Author's Note:

SORRY Sorry sorry! I know I haven't updated this in so long. Life's been handing me things I needed to do and writers block had left me stumped at one point.

And to make posting even more complicated, there was a small thunderstorm yesterday in which my power went out… yes I know. I live in an area that water is generally uncommon—excuses I've got tons of them, but none of them can alleviate the disappointment I sense coming from you guys, being a reader myself. Please forgive me.

But, after 6 chapters of wandering around aimlessly, I actually know where I want to take this Fic! I have the plot of the next three chapters written stone ;) and I think its pretty damn good. And now for the highly anticipated seventh chapter, where stuff **actually happens. **I was so anxious to write an action scene, I just love writing good action sequences.

I would like to thank Wild Card- Yes Man, KThxBai, and Xx_MaD_aS_a_HaTtEr_xX for their dedication. And Kaelili, I'm glad you like the characters.

* * *

**Everyday, Since Leaving**

**Chapter 7**

Wheatley was wide awake and stumbling towards his bedroom door as soon as the first tremors hit. Earthquakes were not common here, and he definitely was not used to the feeling.

"Chell!" He wiped the drool off his chin as he tried getting back up. He grabbed his pillow and carried it over his head in case parts of the ceiling came off. With his balance askew, Wheatley made his way to the doorway where the sleep-deprived, weary girl he called for met him; her eyes wide open with confused fear. They clutched to either side of the wall as the quakes began to lessen.

"Are you alright?" He had to practically yell over the rumble of the earth below.

She nearly fell over as she nodded, so she went with the motion, falling forward and grabbing onto Wheatley, hugging him for support. They held as still as possible, leaning on each other, until at last, the tremors stopped.

Carefully stepping over the rubble, they made their way to the kitchen where they'd left their backpacks, next to the counter. They flinched with each small aftershock. Glass cups and ceramic plates littered the kitchen floor, and everything that once was on the counter had slipped to the ground.

"Well, it's a good thing we're leaving today. Glad I don't have to pick up that mess." Wheatley kicked a piece of a plate for emphasis. Chell didn't answer him and he noticed how incredibly tired she looked now that the adrenaline caused by the quake had dissipated. She simply stared at the backpacks on the floor, her piercing grey eyes half-lidded.

A chill ran up Wheatley's spine at that haunting look.

As they stood silently in the kitchen, Wheatley realized they'd gone a few minutes without tremors. He checked his watch in habit. "I suppose that was the last of them," he said softly. He rested a hand on Chell's shoulder, snapping the girl out of her trance. "It's still dark out. What say we go back to bed, eh? So we can get a couple more winks in."

Chell simply nodded, yawning sleepily, then turned and shuffled back into the bedroom. Wheatley watched her go, sighing as she disappeared around the corner.

He realized he wasn't going to fall asleep any time soon, and decided to stay up and watch for the first sign of sunlight. He carefully stepped over the glass shards in the kitchen and grabbed a Heineken from the fridge, uncapping it there, and carrying it with him out on the porch to contemplate the next chapter in his life.

_I can't believe this is happening…_

The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to leave. It was tough to stay when there wasn't anything left to do here. Given the state his surroundings were in, it was safe to say his job was done.

"I wonder what my AI was like," he pondered as he took a sip of his drink before sitting down on a concrete planter in the courtyard. "Well, obviously, like me, but how far did they go to tamper with it? Was it a disc or some sort of apparatus they attached to the computer? I wonder what it was like to be a part of another consciousness… That had to be strange."

_Did I hear thoughts or anything?_

"Ooh, that would be creepy. Hearing voices in your head…"

The light in the sky had already begun to get brighter. A soft blue glow lit the oak trees around the building.

"…How exactly could I have stopped an enormously powerful AI from killing everyone? What was I supposed to do, distract her? Of course it failed! It doesn't make sense! Why couldn't they have installed safeguards or something? Or… or have taken it straight out of her codes?"

He thought for a minute, wetting his palette.

"Why did they even need AI tech in the first place?" he concluded, remembering to keep his voice down, since Chell was still asleep.

_Oh right, that was because of Aperture's rivalry with Black Mesa. _

"Fame and fortune is greater than any one human life that gets snuffed out on the way there, I suppose." He shook his head in disbelief, nursing the green bottle against his thin lips.

He sat there in silence for quite a while, and didn't realize when he slowly slumped to the side and fell asleep, until he woke up to a pair of beautiful silver eyes, only inches from his face.

"Ah!" he started, bumping his head against the concrete as he recoiled his neck.

Wheatley sat up, rubbing the irritation and noticed that the sun was shining through the trees.

"Well. Thanks for waking me." He looked at Chell and forced a smile. "I'll be inside in a minute." She nodded contentedly and retreated back into the flat.

_Alright, not gonna lie. That was a bit creepy._

Wheatley looked down to see his drink had slipped from his hand as he'd slept and spilt all over the concrete beneath his feet. He sighed, not bothering to pick it up, and walked inside his apartment to see Chell in her brand new jumpsuit, tied at the waist, with her dry, light blue, racer back tank top on. Her shirt looked awfully beat up, compared to her flawless new trousers. Though it was a lot more colorful than his black long-sleeved, collard and cuffed shirt, with blue jeans.

He gestured at her outfit. "Old habits die hard, yeah?" Her brow furrowed slightly and she cocked her head slightly in confusion. He shook his head. "Nevermind. You got everything? All packed and ready to go?"

She nodded, and then pointed at him.

"Me? Oh yes, I'm all set. All my earthly belongings, right here in this little backpack. Bit sad really." Chell grabbed her backpack and started toward the door. She glanced over her shoulder, expecting Wheatley to follow. He hesitated.

"Ah. Just go on, wait outside. I'll be right there, want to take one last look 'round the place, make sure I really do have everything." Chell gave him a slight smile, startling him slightly with her silent understanding, and turned out the door.

The flat was quiet. All of the windows were still covered, casting the room in a gloomy twilight.

_I'll miss this place, that's for sure. Despite the company's policies, I had always felt like I belonged here. _

After looking into each room one last time, he returned outside with a reinvigorated stature and a confident expression on his face. (As well as a pair of old hiking shoes he had found in the back of his closet.) He nodded to Chell who was fidgeting with her pack straps, "Alright, let's go."

Chell took out a folded piece of paper and her pencil, then wrote: We can come back.

"Nah," began Wheatley, "too much went on here. It's best not to dwell in the past."

Chell affirmed his response by giving him a thumbs-up, like she did a couple days before, understanding completely.

Wrapping his own pack around his shoulders, they passed through the courtyard gates, trekking across the parking lot, and continuing along the forest path to the northwest. They were both silent on their journey through the brightly lit trees and shrubbery. Wheatley watched his feet in thought and noticed once in a great while Chell would glance at him questioningly. When he would look directly at her however, he was always too late to catch eye contact. After a few minutes, she did it again.

"What? What is it?" He queried in a soft tone.

Chell shook her head and waved him off.

"No, no really, what's the matter, because if you are going to keep looking at me like that, I swear I'm probably going to go insane."

He smiled at her shrug as she reached for the slip in the side pocket of her bag. She wrote: you don't talk much.

She held it out for him to read then hiked a few feet ahead. It was an easy stretch that lay out ahead of them; all of it was mostly downhill.

_Well, neither do you._

Her comment struck him oddly, probably just because his mind was still on the past, but it seemed strange somehow; as if he missed a conversation they had, and was just then tuning in. She had usually told him to stop talking and quit rambling, but now she wanted a story. Ignoring the feeling and the dreaded homesickness that subdued him, he tried to think of a lighthearted conversation.

"So, what do you think we might find?"

_Now that's _wonderfully_ 'lighthearted'. _He thought sarcastically.

Chell shrugged her shoulders, walking backward in her long fall boots. Wheatley noted that the spring-heels acted as feelers, which adjusted to the uneven pavement she walked over.

"Oh come on, you have to have some sort of guess. I'm hoping we see humans; living, breathing people that look just like you and me. Well, of course, not exactly like the both of us, but I'm sure you know what I mean." He looked around them and noticed they were approaching an opening in the forestry. "Civilization and ever growing society! People going about their business without a care in the world." He gestured around him. "Just like it used to be."

Chell nodded subtly and turned around again.

"Wait, so you don't even know what life was like outside of Aperture?"

She shook her head without looking back at him.

"And so I had thought that they'd done _me_ over."

More silence pervaded their hike, continuing to the clearing ahead. It was another expanse of Wheat fields. They could barely make out the trees in the distance, but there was also something shining just beneath the canopy.

Another settlement?

This one was probably abandoned too, unless those people were living in blissful ignorance from the apocalyptic happenings around them. Wheatley didn't expect to find any civilization for at least another twenty mile radius.

At this point Wheatley was lagging behind. He was able to hike next to Chell no problem when he wasn't carrying a pack, but now it was clear that she was in far greater shape than he was. About halfway into the wheat field was when Chell noticed this. She waited for him, seemingly un-phased by the exercise, while he trudged along to her position. When he was a few feet from her she threw him a water bottle. They decided to rest there for a while.

Taking off his pack, Wheatley bent down a patch of grass so that he could sit. Chell followed suit, sitting on top of her own pack so she could sit eye-level with him.

"So," He panted, "great start so far."

After taking a sip from his water bottle, he immediately collapsed onto his bag, using it like a pillow. It wasn't very warm out, it was actually quite cool, but that didn't stop him from sweating through the back of his T-shirt. It felt nice to take off his pack. He felt a lot lighter without it, which gave him instant relief to his still, very sore back.

Wheatley looked up at Chell and saw that she still held her ever unchanging disposition.

_Maybe I _should_ have joined as a test subject. _He thought but decided that it was improbable. Who knows what would have happened to him then. He sympathized with the woman sitting next to him. Her life must have been Hell.

It was then that they heard something rustling the grasses nearby. Chell stopped looking at her hands in contemplation, and whipped her head around to face the possible threat. Slowly and cautiously she got up and reached for her pocket knife, easing her way toward the suspicious sounds. Chell was about to pull the cluster of wheat aside, when all of a sudden a flock of birds was startled from their nesting spot. Chell flinched away, being mindful of the knife she held, while Wheatley jumped up and ran a few feet away stumbling in shock as he did so, which upset a number of other birds in his wake.

_Ahhhhh! Oh God, Chell probably thinks I _am_ insane._

The birds had flown away, and left Wheatley doubled over quite a ways from Chell's spot next to their bags. He turned around to see her with her hand covering her mouth and nose in violent giggles.

_Sure enough. _

"Do you think that's the rest of them?" He paced around to make sure he didn't hear anything else scurrying in the tall stalks around him. Concluding that it was indeed safe, he returned to their resting spot, where he drank down almost half of his water bottle.

Chell shook her head at him whilst waving her arms.

"Sorry. Sorry." The bottle would still last him the day.

With a jump to her feet, and packing away her own bottle, she signified that it was time for them to leave. Wheatley didn't complain at all. He knew they needed to reach some sort of landmark within the day and deliberate what their next steps were, as well as ration their items. He wasn't worried about fresh water though, there were plenty of streams in the area, and in autumn there were always bound to be thunderstorms.

Their hike was silent once again, but mainly because Wheatley was being paranoid about any wildlife they might come across. Other than that, they enjoyed each others company. He speculated that at least he had someone else around, and was glad that she was open to being his friend. Their relationship was very different than that of him and his co-workers. They were both refugees, and weren't given the option to be acquainted under normal circumstances. They could very well go their different ways, if worse came to worst, but he didn't want that to happen.

Hopefully she felt the same.

He was thrown from his thoughts, when he had nearly run into her.

"Wha—," He began, but was cut off when Chell held a finger to his chin.

Then he felt it; a mild tremor. Almost too weak to feel while walking, like the faint quakes you would experience while standing still on the top floor of a busy mall. But then it seemed to get stronger. The longer they waited in their timid postures the more frantic their thoughts became. Grabbing Wheatley's hand, Chell darted across the field, as she searched for some sort of cover or bracing.

He watched her as she pulled him along. His long stride allowed him to keep up with Chell's rather quick pace as they leapt over the uneven ground. The earth's shudder was now to the point that they could hear the rocks slipping beneath them. Looking around them he saw the golden wheat stalks rising and falling with each wave of the grounds motion. The dirt was loose under their heels, and Wheatley could feel his ankles buckling without the support of the gravel.

"OH Bollocks!"

Then directly to their left a chasm ripped open before their very eyes. Clouds of dust erupted from the gaping maw as if it were a volcano…

_Was it a volcano? But there aren't any around here! Did I happen to miss the part of history where Michigan became a seismic hotspot? _

There was no time to think further, because an apex wave had knocked Wheatley off of his feet. Chell had no time to respond either, when the ground beneath them began to sink below the normal level of the flat plains.

"Ahhh! This isn't good! This definitely isn't good!"

Chell was struggling to get to Wheatley who was only feet away. She was desperately willing her feet to grasp some sort of foothold, as he was doing the same. They were unable to get any closer to each other in this rate.

Then his feet struck something and he glanced up at the top of the impression. The intricately woven network of grassroots had locked the dirt together, to form large chunks like the one he was standing on now. In fact, if the ground below wasn't shaking so badly, he believed he could grab onto the ledge and climb back to safety. He looked back at Chell to see she was miles ahead of him as far as plans go. She had wrapped her forearm around a thick root that looked to be holding for the moment. And she motioned for him to take off his pack.

"What do I do with it?" He yelled over the deafening crackle.

She pointed to the grasses which held fast above them. Being careful not to lose his balance, Wheatley heaved his pack over the edge of the ravine successfully. He looked over to her for more instruction.

She made a swinging motion and pointed at him, grasping her other hand in a fist.

"Okay let's do this!"

As the ground all around them seeped into the monstrous, shaking pit, Chell made a vault for the palm of Wheatley's outstretched hand. She nearly missed, but he grasped her with both of his arms, wrapping a leg around the roots he was clinging to. Now lying on his stomach he clutched to her, trying to pull her up and out of the ever draining sediment.

Looking behind him, he felt a part of the wall collapse into the void below them. Terror filled the cavities of his chest as he looked back into the sterling eyes of a girl who he desperately wanted to understand. It was only the start of a great friendship and it had to end, just like that. They would both be buried alive.

He didn't look away when the remainder of the formation collapsed behind him. A shudder soon pushed them over the abyss.

As their figures disappeared into the black chasm, the ground's motion came to a halt. Large gray beams and panels pushed the crumbled earth up and out, sealing the outer world from view.

* * *

Author's Note:

Aaaaaaaaand… that's all for now, but there is plenty more in store for all of you soon.

I want to thank my best friend momoni920 for not only editing this chapter, but enhancing the first half of it. She practically enriched it with her far stronger writing abilities than mine. (It's true Momo, and don't say it isn't cuz you know it.)

We used to write fictions together in high school… and now, I've convinced her to do it again with this one! Isn't that great? We are going to alternate chapters and edit each others, so that it has a consistent voice. So don't worry about this fic going down the toilet, it will actually get even better, based off of the fics we wrote together.

I'm excited, and you should be too.

-Matau25


	9. Chapter 8

Author's Note:

Matau25 here, momoni920 will be writing the next chapter. This one, however, is a major keystone in this story's development, so she opted out of setting this one up. It's going to be a short one, since it's more of a status update than an active chapter.

Thanks everyone for reviewing!

kaelili, you're awesome. Lieju, revan228 and .aS..xX (UPDATE: ? Sorry 'XxMadasahatterxX' the site won't let me post your name for some strange reason...) , thanks so much for the ideas. WildCard-Yes Man and Stalker Witch, I appreciate your support. Sparky16, GreatZero, and TheMockingjay111,

WELCOME!

**Everyday, Since Leaving**

**Chapter 8**

_Sample recovered_

[Command Prompt] view/zoom: 200% magnification

_Analyzing… _

From her control room, GLaDOS watched her instruments compile and sort data. This specific data was based on soil samples.

_Analyzing…_

With Aperture operating at 95.75% (The remainder of that figure representing the need of humans to complete test chambers), she needed something to occupy her processors during her wait, as well as expand the large facility for even more testing opportunities.

The enormous construct rotated to face another large monitor that was pulled from underneath a set of black panels.

[CP] Gamma status: On

She waited momentarily as the power redirected to the lifeless wing. Now that the two had left, she could continue working on her project. Well, one of many small projects that lead to a large and highly anticipated result.

She then turned back to check on her samples, which were ready, and proceeded to fire up the drills. The factory had been busy making those from the superheated mulch of turrets, cubes and various other types of defunct hardware, and then flash-cooled to form an incredibly strong substance that diamond could barely cut through. Those drills would probably last even her lifetime.

Under other circumstances, such as the time she spent before she let that girl go, she would not have been able to do this. Such actions were prohibited by protocol and other ties in circuitry. But now, by the grace of Caroline's passing, she was not survived by these things. GLaDOS had been unshackled from her solitary residence in the AI, ASHPD and Central Enrichment Shaft. She could now see beyond those walls and even the spaces in between; as aware of them as her own sensory appendages, having installed cameras and other equipment. Really, all she had to do was set up a few connectors to perceptive cables. They had already been installed in these areas as if the scientists had planned for her to run the company's outdated technology. Her fortress was now perfectly spotless, including the catwalks and offices and everything below her. Now that she had no restriction from anywhere in her facility, it gave her the ability to be much more mobile with her surroundings, not only being able to move structures within Alpha, but the entirety of Aperture's supportive apparatus. All nine, 4000 meter deep shafts were now under her command.

The only place she couldn't directly see was the new tenth shaft she was working on. It would be operational soon, now that she had support beams and base panels throughout its length. In a few weeks she could reel in test chambers and an array of elevator shafts and Pneumatic Diversity Vents. The only problem she was having was with the top of the facility. The enormous ceiling had caved in around some of the roofing structure, during her time lying in a heap at the bottom of her chamber. Her only fix for that was to patch it up with supportive panels. It was rudimentary, but the only way it could be done. The same strategy went for her new project. She tried to catch as much sediment as she could to hide the panels, but the surface scarring would be visible for decades.

After repairing the facility, post-Wheatley Laboratories,Sub-Aperture was first to go.

[Internal Auditory System] "What did he ever expect to get accomplished in that establishment of his? Honestly, I would really like to know. If it was manufacturing an amassment of Frankenturrets, he had been rather successful."

All trace of it's past erased, beside a few Enrichment Spheres she salvaged, to be used as a pretest for all the subjects; before they had the chance to spoil all of her shiny new chambers. The Extended Relaxation Center was also cleaned up and ready for the occupation of test subjects.

[IAS] "Ahhh, the test subjects."

GLaDOS knew exactly where they were. She could now feel the monstrous door that was supposed to keep any artificial being out. That was going to be a tough one to crack, but any door could be opened. Orange and Blue were currently en route to it now. GLaDOS could easily say she made them go through the few remaining Science Spheres, so that their travels would be a lot more amusing. Science would be held in the facility at all times, be it so insignificant.

This time she turned her attention to her internal network. She could feel the two bots running through her mazes. She would laugh and taunt them in their confused state, when the answer was just anterior of their units. A few times she caught them jumping off the Hard Light Bridges when they thought they were stuck. It was probably an easier option, but she only had so much patience, and spare parts for that matter. Same went for the Excursion Funnels.

Flipping to her security setting, she browsed through the various corridors. She couldn't see the massive door concealing the humans itself, but she found the camera and scoped out the room. GLaDOS could feel her inner mechanism's quivering with the thought of being back in business. Her form swiveled from side to side in excitement.

[External Audio] "There will no longer be any escapes now that I am aware of everything. It's such a relief that I can finally test in peace."

Her smooth voice echoed off the walls.

The new Northwest wing of the facility was a blind spot for the time being, and her only method of navigation was to shoot out a sensor into the soil, analyze the sample to determine what drills she would need, as well as discovering any obstacles, such as a water body of nearly impenetrable rock, including and not limited to diamond.

She remembered in one of her samples, she had collected human remains. This amused her, so she set a part of herself to research the specimen in curiosity. Perhaps the information could be used in one of her future tests.

Yes, she could do that now. GLaDOS had engineered a special apparatus to fit into the core slots on her body to increase processing power, and could now duplicate herself to aid in codex work, patching and surveillance. Because in all of her preparations, she could not be bothered with petty tasks such as that, and she couldn't trust anyone or anything else but herself to put out the quality and quantity of work which she'd be satisfied with.

[Internal Audio System] "It will only be a matter of time before they reach the humans, and although it will take time to scan and categorize them all, it won't take a week.

GLaDOS turned to face the sample screen.

[Command Prompt] drill speed/bit rotation: High

She would have to work quickly.


	10. Chapter 9

**AN: **Hey everyone! I'm momoni920 and I'll be writing this chapter of _Everyday, Since Leaving._ I'm totally stoked to be helping my best friend with her new project. We've been writing stories together for four years now, and, personally, I think our styles mesh well together. Of course, I'll let you lovely readers be the final judges of that. Anyways, hope you enjoy the chapter!

* * *

**Everyday, Since Leaving**

**Chapter 9**

Chell woke lying on her back, staring blindly into the darkness. For a moment, she thought her eyes might still be closed. Her adrenaline started pumping when she blinked, realizing that they were open, and she flashed on the last few times she'd been in mysterious, dark rooms…

She lay still, allowing her eyes time adjust to the dim light and her body time to calm down and observe her surroundings as best they could. She could not tell how big the room was, as it extended around her until it faded into darkness. From behind her, fluorescent lights shone faintly, casting a sickly pallor to the place. It was damp, and smelled musty, all signs of being deep underground. She remembered falling, far and fast, and was thankful both for her long fall boots and the soft thing her head was resting on…

_Wheatley!_

She sat up quickly, not paying attention to the dizziness it caused her, and turned to look at the skinny man she had been using as a pillow. His lips were parted slightly, shallow little breaths escaping them. Chell closed her eyes and sighed as the chief of her worries left her. He was alive.

It was only then that she realized a dull pain in her left hand, the one she hadn't moved since waking. Testing it cautiously, she moved her index finger, a small twitch up and down. That was fine. No broken bones there. The rest of her fingers passed the test as well. Gingerly, she attempted the same movement with her entire hand and hissed in pain.

_Wrist it is, then._

As she let the pain subside, she explored the room with her eyes. There were rocks and gravel all around them, but it vanished in a sea of fog into the distance. They were also covered in a layer of the stuff. Spotting her pack next to Wheatley's unmoving form, she reached over him and dragged it closer. She rifled through it, but found no first aid kit.

_Why wouldn't we pack a first aid kit?_

Oh, that's right. She'd had Wheatley through it over the ledge so he could move more freely. She should've had him put the important materials in her bag…

Luckily, she had packed a knife with her. Lamenting the necessary loss, Chell tore into the orange cloth from her jumpsuit. Ripping a length of the material away, she wrapped her hand with the impromptu bandage, using Wheatley's chest as a table and tying the ends with her teeth.

After she'd finished doctoring herself, she was able to tend more diligently to Wheatley. She gently reached behind his neck to check the scab she'd noticed the day before. A little wet with blood, but it hadn't cracked. She breathed another sigh of relief and made a note to be careful with the injury in the future. If it reopened now, before it had fully healed, he could bleed to death, and she would be able to do nothing but watch.

She continued her inspection, checking his collarbone and ribs for injuries, running her working hand over his wiry frame, putting pressure here and there. Nothing seemed out of place, and he wasn't bleeding. Her long fall boots had done their job.

Chell allowed her silver eyes to travel back to his face. He'd lost his glasses in the fall, and a few strands of hair clung to his forehead. If not for the creases between his eyebrows, he could've been sleeping. As it was, he looked like he was having a nightmare. She reached out and ran her fingers lightly over his forehead, brushing the hair away and smoothing the troubled creases. He sighed, almost contently, and his breathing became more normal.

As she withdrew her hand, she caught a glimpse of her numerical tattoo under the loose white fabric on her right wrist. The one she couldn't even remember getting, but had woken up with, seemingly ages ago.

122-7605

That was who she was. That simple number, inked into her skin, was her whole identity.

Tears stung at the corners of her eyes. She sniffed once, trying to rid herself of the feeling, and it was all over. The salty water streamed down her cheeks as she bent over and sobbed into Wheatley's chest, gripping the dusty fabric of his shirt.

How long had it been since she last cried? Maybe she'd scraped her elbow as a child and called for her parents to kiss it and make it better. That was a different life, a different person. She couldn't remember her parents, but she did know who she was and where she'd led her friend. The one place she'd never wanted to see again, and now, she sensed, she would never escape. GLaDOS had deleted Caroline, the one part of her that had ever been human, that had held any compassion at all. Chell would never again see the sun, the moon, the stars. Never again would she laugh in the rain with Wheatley.

"Ch…ell…"

Her head snapped up. Wheatley's eyes were still closed and, as far as she could tell, he'd made no movement at all. Chell wiped her tears away and moved closer to his face, still leaning over him. Resting her hand near his head, she held her breath and listened.

_Maybe I imagined it…_

"Chell…"

Barely even a whisper, Wheatley spoke her name in his sleep. Such a small sound, and yet it gave her so much hope. She smiled to herself, eyes still watery, and ran her thumb lightly along Wheatley's cheekbone. She might've been hallucinating, but she could swear he smiled back.

She would get through this. If not for herself, then for the kind man that so easily and selflessly accepted her.

Back to business again, Chell sat up and grabbed her pack, carefully putting it on. She then turned the torso of her jumpsuit into a makeshift sling to help her hold her wrist still, with her left elbow sitting in the large sleeve and a new knot tied beneath her injured wrist. Granted, the backpack and sling combo made her look like a lopsided hunchback, but it would have to do.

She observed her next obstacle; Wheatley still lay dreaming peacefully. She didn't want to drag him across the rocky floor, and frankly, she didn't know if she could using only one hand.

Moving so she was on his left side, she crouched down and grabbed his arm, wrapping it around her shoulders. Then she wrapped her own arm around his waist and hoisted him to a somewhat standing position.

_Good thing he's so skinny and has such long arms._

Adjusting her grip on her friend, Chell set off grimly towards the source of light.


	11. Chapter 10

Author's Note:

Hello it's Matau25 again. I'll be writing Chapter 10 and 11.

Hopefully college life won't get in the way. My average words-per-chapter is 2537.1; that means, it's time to break the average! I really want to write another 4000 word one, but 3,000 will have to do for now. Sorry it was posted a little late. This week has gone by so fast! If you follow me on twitter, you already know why. Also, I'm reading the Harry Potter series between classes now. Momo's making me read them, and after finishing the first one, I don't mind whatsoever. She's going to take over for a little while after I finish the 11th chapter, with my notes and editing of course.

Enjoy the chapter.

* * *

**Everyday, Since Leaving**

**Chapter 10**

Her shoulders and back ached, her broken wrist was irritating and her soul was in anguish. Her body felt as if she walked six miles uphill without a breather, but the light never got any brighter, and the dungeon she walked through hadn't changed much in scenery. As she slowly dragged Wheatley across the floor, the dirt and rocks parted to show the dark flooring underneath. Chell had already suspected it, but now that it was proven that she really was back, she felt those tears re-emerge.

_No! Do not give up! Do not!_

She berated herself and pushed her aching muscles to move forward—well, backward. The position she was in was not very comfortable. Wheatley had stirred a few times in his slumber, only to gently gather his muscles and whisper something unintelligible.

Although her limbs were to the point of giving out, Chell willed them to keep moving toward the point of luminescence. Thankfully the air was frigid, and like the night she stumbled upon the large holes in Aperture's roof, it kept her thoughts clear and her body functional.

_ Ouch!_

Her back had struck a rather large chunk of a boulder. Its sharp edges cut shallow marks on the skin of her shoulder blades, where her racer back didn't cover. She knelt down, tenderly resting Wheatley against the rock's smooth side, and checked the damage.

_ Good, nothing serious. _

Just a few scratches.

It was so relieving to sit down and take a rest. As she leaned against her pack, taking care not to jostle her broken wrist, she closed her eyes picturing the scenery of the surface world.

The sun. She remembered the feel of its golden rays on her skin, the blessed warmth it cast on cool days and how it brought vibrancy to everything its light touched.

The moon. It hadn't been apparent the first few days of her travels, but it had helped illuminate the world, when otherwise she would have been lost without it.

The stars. They were everywhere in the night sky. She couldn't recall how many times she had sat outside, listening to the insects chirp while trying to find a small one, the iridescent shade of blue.

The clouds. Their shade was always welcome on warm days and the rain that they provided was transcendent. She lightly smiled, remembering again how happy she was with Wheatley by her side. Without opening her eyes she reached to her right, feeling the gravel under her fingertips. She kept searching until her hand clasped his. Chell had to feel she wasn't alone in this. There was someone else with whom she could lean on, and someone who needed her support as well.

Returning to her thoughts, she imagined the soft wheat field that stretched for miles beyond the horizons. It was beautiful. She remembered the oak trees of the first settlement she had passed. And the memory of her greatest friend, humming a sad tune underneath the shade of their crisp green leaves.

The forest. The smell of trees and foliage was wonderful. She reminisced of the small flowers blooming near the overgrown trail. She could still hear the gentle rush of a creek nearby, and the cheerful twittering of small birds bathing in its shallow waters.

The houses. Much could be said about them; families, togetherness, happiness, gratefulness. All of these things were once held in these spaces, with roofs over their heads to keep the despair, separation, and loneliness of the outside world from sight.

Chell felt a pressure against her palm. Wheatley had moved again. Her eyes flitted open and she quickly and carefully sat by his side, holding his hand in her lap. She didn't know what to do with an unconscious person. She believed he would wake up on his own, because that's exactly what she had done without any assistance. All she could do was wait, but she felt helpless because of it. Chell was uncomfortable with this feeling. She had only felt it one other time, when her old friend had turned on her. The feeling crawled through her bloodstream warning her to keep moving.

She deemed her instinct correct when suddenly the floor began to vibrate. It was noticeable, but not tremendously so, like the ones on the surface had been. It was more like a background effect.

Looking at Wheatley's face resting near his shoulder, which didn't look like a very comfortable position, she could see his eyes moving under their lids. Chell's body and mind were conflicted. She knew she had to keep going, but her muscles protested with each movement of grabbing her pack and once again hoisting the large man's arm across her shoulders. Even though confronting GLaDOS was not something she wanted to experience ever again, she did not want to risk dying in this dark musty hole. So she banished all coherent thought from her mind, and continued forward. If she was honest with herself, there really was no other choice.

She remembered wiping her eyes clear of tears, and any dust that had gotten in her eyes at one point. As her strength wavered the further they travelled, she couldn't help but give in slightly to doubt.

Had she finally met her match?

After surviving this long to only end up even further underground, was it her fate to die in a place so far away from the sun?

It felt like she was loosing breath. It was being taken from her, like the deep vacuum of space.

So this is what it felt like to freak out. Chell let out a raspy sound that could only be defined as the manic laughter of a physically exhausted individual. She was too far gone to care about her mental state. She only clung to the mindless task of getting from point "A" to point "B".

Chell stopped.

However, she had no control over the situation. It was as if her body had grown another consciousness and had made her stop moving her legs. Either that or she no longer had the strength to move one foot behind the other. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She had to force herself to take deep breaths and calm down, but it was too much for her to handle. She felt blood rush from her head as her vision became bright and blurry. Knowing what was going to happen next, Chell set Wheatley down as gently as she could, before she collapsed again onto his chest.

She didn't know how long she had been out when she woke to Wheatley unconsciously stroking her bare shoulder with his thumb. Although, she didn't have much time to think about it when the chamber shook them again, causing blinding pain to shoot through the wrist pinned between her and Wheatley. She lifted her body and rolled onto her back, with her head resting against the masculine arm that had been draped over her shoulders.

The shaking had stopped, only to be replaced with a small annoying vibration that made her teeth rattle together. The tremors felt and sounded like it was far away, unlike the one… yesterday? A few moments ago? Time was too jumbled in her mind to make sense of it all.

Mechanical noises traveled through the large cavern, reminding her of the ambiance from testing. Then she realized that it was, until now, unnaturally quiet in the facility. The hum of equipment and the creaking of support beams was non existent. Only a few times had she heard the shudder of a rock falling onto the floor of the chasm.

She looked around her to see how far they had traveled.

Through the fog to her left, she could see the figure of a large airlock doorway, lit from the interior by floodlights.

Why was this door open? GLaDOS had no use for a door of this size or structure; unless, those robots that she had constructed were used to run errands throughout various parts of the labs.

Hissing, she sat upright and looked at Wheatley. He was still unconscious and she did not want to drag him any farther. She leaned over him once again and placed her right hand on the side of his face.

_Please wake up!_

She mouthed the words and patted his cheek, hoping that he would stir, but in the moments she waited, he didn't budge. Sighing, she rolled to her backpack sitting next to her, and picked open a pouch of trail mix leftover from an MRE. Her body needed so much more than a simple snack, but that is all she had time for. She couldn't risk being stationary for too long. She didn't know how stable the chasm was. Small pieces of dirt had been raining on them ever since they had fallen into the pit, so who knows how large the pieces could get, remembering the large boulder she had run into.

She got up and struggled to lift Wheatley's upper body with her backpack slung on her right shoulder. Closing the remaining amount of distance between them and the door, Chell leaned Wheatley beside the door and studied the opening in the monumental, concrete wall. Painted on the side of the wall in bold white, was the figure: Shaft 10. The smell of it was strong.

Why was GLaDOS expanding the facility? What did she need the room for?

Chell paced in front of the doorway as her stiff muscles loosened.

It had seemed like there was more than enough space, especially when the AI was able to stockpile entire chambers and then forget about them.

Was she trying to catch her? Had she fallen neatly into one of her traps again? Anger would have risen in her chest if she wasn't so tired. Instead, she continued her inherent sweep of the things around her. Since the fog wasn't in her way anymore, she could see a rail connected to the other side of the airlock. The catwalk led deeper into the main facility—or somewhere.

_Well, here we go._

Chell gathered her strength. These parts of the complex had to be easier to navigate than the dark hole they fell into. She only wished she had the portal gun or something to give her the upper hand for when they meet…_her_.

She picked up her backpack, situated her broken wrist, crouched down and pulled his arm around her shoulders while wrapping her other hand around his waist. This was ten times more difficult now that she had rested. If she hadn't passed out, then she would have had at least some vigor left. Now it hurt to move.

At the other side of the railing there was another open airlock door. Through that, she saw red and orange lights moving through a dimly lit room. Flashes of white light would briefly flicker by and a humming noise of machinery pulsed around the walls. As she pulled Wheatley further toward it, though, a white cylindrical camera with a red lens, in the corner of the airlock hallway, rotated toward their position. Chell stopped moving, and so did the lights in the dimly lit room. The vibrations in the ground halted. Silence fell. Even the floodlights seemed to scroll toward them as if they were illuminating someone on a stage.

What broke the silence was that familiar scroll noise which indicated the intercom was on.

Then more silence.

The camera hadn't even moved.

Then finally:

"What…" The voice of the powerful AI queried unemotionally, "…the _hell_…"

Chell just stared at the camera, not giving away any emotion, as she waited for GLaDOS to continue.

"…are _you_ doing here?"

The end of her sentence sounded threatening at best. As it were Chell was trespassing.

"How…"

This was definitely the first time GLaDOS was choked for words.

"There's no way you could be here."

Chell still stared defiantly at the camera.

"But you are here nonetheless." The camera swiveled so that she could get a good view of what Chell brought with her. "And you brought a friend. Wonderful."

The airlocks closed with their pressure seals clamping loudly. The circular mechanism on them rotated, locking the bolts. Then there was a lurch beneath Chell's feet as the section of the walkway was lifted away from the rest of the surrounding structure. The room she was in swayed, as it hung suspended by a rail. The sensation was awfully familiar to that of her relaxation chamber.

"So," GLaDOS said drolly, "What should I do with you?"

The test subject held Wheatley tighter to her as the chamber began to shudder. They were being pulled quickly through the facility. Chell was beginning to panic, although she didn't show it. She was at a great disadvantage here. She had to keep Wheatley within her sight at all times, she had a broken wrist, and no portal device. Even if she had a portal gun would she be able to operate it? Perhaps she could rest it on her forearm instead?

_No, that equipment was heavy. My wrist wouldn't be able to take the strain._

"I could drop you down the incinerator."

Chell's heart began pounding.

"Mowing you down with turrets is an option."

The room swung violently to the left causing them to topple against the right wall. She could hear the rotaries grinding above them.

"Or you could always try out my frankenturret reconfiguration room, the last time I heard, they needed a target dummy down there."

The room jolted to a sudden stop and they were pushed forward by the momentum. Chell wrapped her arms around the back of Wheatley's head and shoulders to make sure no more damage would befall him. More clamps hissed and whirred around them and the room fell fast, dropping at a high rate. Chell's stomach was in her throat, and she could almost float in the room. This weightlessness was not pleasant. It made her head spin and nausea was coming just as fast as the ground. She knew they wouldn't die yet however. GLaDOS couldn't help but amuse herself at the expense of her test subjects, just as a snake plays with its prey.

"I could even simply let you go, just as I did last time."

The room screeched loudly as the speed lessened. Sparks flew from the walls and the lights flickered. After being pressed against the floor by gravitational forces, the chamber came to a halt. It then began to move slowly in the direction of the airlock manufacturing used to be connected to.

"But it's obvious you forgot that simple instruction—rather, _warning_ that I sent you along with. Had you lost your hearing as well? Such a shame, you missed the song the turret's performed for you. And telling them will break their little hearts. In that case I suppose I'll just have to show you what I have in store. There were so many possibilities, but I think this one was quite fitting."

The creaking sound of clamps being geared into place produced an open airlock. The space behind it was dark except for the light of the room shining on the floor just outside it. Chell sat in the back corner clinging to her unconscious friend. Her backpack was still on uncomfortably. She didn't dare move.

"I didn't force you here. You're the one who came back, so go ahead. Sit there for all of eternity. I'll be right _here_." The camera in the corner of the chamber was off, so how could she see her?

Chell carefully stood, gathering Wheatley and her things, and walked backward through the airlock as she looked at her feet to see where she was going. She used the light from the room to see the steps behind her. The faint glow allowed her to see only fine granules of dust that caught the light. Thinking she had gone far enough, she took off her pack and rested him against it. When she turned around, the bright yellow glow of her lens illuminated GLaDOS's enormous faceplate just a few feet away.

Lights slowly lit the colossal control room.

Why were they off in the first place? Didn't GLaDOS need to see? And what is that thing on her?

_It looks like, extra circuitry. And it's all plugged into the core slots. What's going on here? _

Chell couldn't ask though. She was bound by her pride; she wouldn't give GLaDOS the pleasure of having it easy. The worst thing you could do to a passive aggressive entity is by giving it the silent treatment, and to look unaffected by its taunts. Make everything look easy. She didn't know how she knew this. She assumed it was because she had been in that situation before, because it has always been her strategy against the monstrous machine.

_That means I was able to speak bef…? _

"So, lets cut to the chase. You are going to earn your way back to the surface. I'd only waste energy hauling _you_ back up to the surface from all the way down here."

_Another fat joke? I must have accidentally reacted to on of them._

"Testing. You're going to go through twenty chambers. Starting with the new course I set up. That way I can cut any flaws from their design, though I'm sure they're perfect already."

Chell looked behind her, though she regretted it instantly.

"Ah yes, your friend will be returned to you sometime later. Can't say when though."

Chell turned to run back to Wheatley panicking. But the panels that held Wheatley and her pack vanished below the floor and were replaced with new ones before she got there.

_Crap. That was a reaction… Now she has leverage!_

"The Test Chambers are this way." Panels slid away from the wall to reveal blinking lights in the shape of an arrow. Lights in the flooring also pointed her way to the door. GLaDOS's narrowed gaze followed her as she crossed the room. Chell's heart was filled with dread as she entered the elevator.

Would she ever see him again?

There was only one way to find out.

The doors closed, and as it began to drift downward she heard the AI laugh.

"Good luck."


	12. Chapter 11

Author's Note:

FAIL! That was a not post until a week and a half later FAIL! 4,700 + words though, so at least you get that. I don't know about you, but this is honestly my favorite chapter.

This is where I will be leaving you for a while. Momo will be taking over so that I can read HP. College is definitely not letting me multi-task.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Everyday, Since Leaving**

**Chapter 11**

There was a numb throbbing in his head. He couldn't see anything clearly the second time he opened his eyes, just fuzzy lights and figures. It made him dizzy to the point where he simply blacked out again.

He remembered the first time he came to. He had heard Chell gently sobbing, though he couldn't tell where she was. His whole body had gone numb and prickly. Thank goodness she was alive. Hopefully she wasn't hurt. Stars had danced before his vision, threatening to devour him whole. They brought forth memories; memories of past times, as well as more recent ones. He relived the day he flew overseas to become an intern at the second-most successful scientific research facility in the world. He knew he wasn't the most brightly polished stone on the beach, but he hoped to prove everyone wrong, including himself, by working alongside the brilliant minds of Aperture Science.

Wheatley remembered it was a rainy afternoon, on which he took a cab to Aperture's obscure headquarters. The rain hadn't bothered him. In fact, it helped ease the dramatic change of location, since the weather was almost always like this back home. He made a mental note that he would visit friends and family he'd left within a year's time. By then he was sure to have made a name for himself. Perhaps it would change their view of him. His parents had previously disapproved of his job, working at a hometown antique shop. He had enjoyed the look and smell of the old items, which was why he started working there in the first place, but it was only temporary, him being just out of school. In reality, he'd always dreamed of becoming CEO of a large company, but without the money to go to University, he could only afford to start at the bottom of the chain, with an internship. Office work wasn't the most exciting place to end up, but it didn't squelch his optimism. Unfortunately, the people who worked alongside him did.

On his first night being shuttled to the apartment complexes, his co-workers had blindfolded him and tied his wrists together in front of him, with a zip tie someone just so happened to have with them. He was then forced to walk down the road at dusk. He couldn't tell whether he was alone or not, but he complained aloud the entire time. Every now and then, he'd hear something and quiet down, whispering a question. "Is anyone there?" He would then inform them that their little game wasn't at all funny, and they should "quit the trickery this instant," because he really was getting scared.

Toward the end of his journey, he realized he really had been alone. His blindfold having now slipped down to hang around his neck, he found himself stumbling through a parking lot. Trying to get his key card from the wallet in the back pocket of his pants, he twisted his body around, resulting in his turning in circles on the spot. As his frustration grew, he saw a blonde woman of average height, though quite a bit shorter than himself, walking over to him from her bright red pickup.

"So you're the new recruit?" she had asked. He stopped turning and looked at her warily, like an animal after being wounded. "Wheatley, right?"

"Martin," he replied. "Yes."

"Do you need help with that?" She pointed at his tied wrists. He nodded and she looked through her keys. Picking one with particularly jagged teeth, she began to saw through the plastic material of the zip tie. Once his hands were free, he tenderly rubbed his wrists. The skin there had gone quite red from his struggles.

"Thanks… I'm sorry, what was your name?" he asked abashedly.

"Jessica, but most people call me Jessie."

"A pleasure to meet you." He was beginning to let go of his damaged pride. "Do they always do this to newcomers?"

Jessie nodded her head. "Every time. They'll probably stop after the first week."

"The first week?" He remembered shouting. "That's it, I'm buying a car first thing tomorrow. I was going to wait and see how the public transit was, but now it seems I truly need it."

She laughed. "I would still be careful. They tend to do most of their pranks at the office, when there are no superiors around." She paused for a moment, looking at him thoughtfully. "We get a lot of interns here who apply straight from school. It's refreshing to see a face that isn't so fresh from schooling."

"Well, um, you're welcome?"

"Oh, let's see. You'll have to go back through the forest again on your way to get your new car in the morning, and public transit will take too long. I could always give you a ride to town. I'm heading that way anyway, I have a few items I need to pick up for my apartment."

"Oh, alright, if you're sure. That would be great. Thank you." He grinned like an idiot and fished for his pass key. "I should probably get going though. I need to set up my own flat before it gets any darker. What time will you be leaving?"

"You can meet me here at seven o'clock tomorrow morning. Make sure you bring money for food, too, so you can get your shopping done then. Town's nearly twenty miles away."

"Alright, thanks. See you tomorrow." He said, slowly drifting toward his now ajar apartment door.

"Good bye," she called back, as she had already reached the courtyard gate.

He remembered finding large boxes outside his flat, all of which contained his belongings. Aperture shipped them there with no fees of any kind. He supposed the founder of the company, Cave Johnson, welcomed new people to join his large family of innovators. He imagined the man to be cordial and kind, as well as strong and firm as the business needed him to be, a man that Wheatley very much looked up to.

Walking into his apartment for the first time made him suddenly realize that he was actually by himself. He was away from that close knit familiarity of his hometown in England. He felt free. He was his own man from that point forward. He wasn't a man of 23, still living with his parents. He'd finally gotten out, and even moved to a different country. He was already even making new friends… and enemies. Wheatley remembered how ecstatic he felt the moment he collapsed on the couch in his newly furnished home, dreaming of his future at Aperture.

He remembered buying his car, a used, white Range Rover, and still being somewhat confused about the directional differences of the American roadway system, despite having already gotten his new driver's license.

It had been easy getting to work and back again once he didn't have to wait for the shuttle. The first week of pranks wasn't too bad, either, since he made it a habit of getting to work on time and staying no longer than he had to. Unfortunately, on the Friday of that week, his car had been egged. Jessie had walked by, seen the mess, and laughed lightly, giving him an optimistic gesture.

It was dull at the office. He wished he didn't have to be the one pushing papers all the time, but instead, he dreamed of being the one supervising.

That brought his mind to the day the branch noticed _him_.

That's right. Cave Johnson himself.

The head honcho. The big cheese.

He had come from the subterranean entrance to the office building. Scientists and staff and their assistants bustled about the place. It was rather maddening. They kept shouting to one another, others whispered quiet instructions to their assistants, while the ones adorned in white lab coats spoke evenly to their superiors, asking questions about policies and regulations.

As they stormed through the office, everyone who worked there stood at attention beside their desks. Unfortunately, he wasn't one of those people, and continued working since his queue of paperwork for the day had been doubled by the work he'd had leftover from the day before. He couldn't waste any time.

He only halted, shocked, once the commanding figure was standing directly over his shoulder. He hadn't even noticed the whole room had gone silent until he looked up, seeing his peers staring at him, bewilderment in their eyes. He remembered his mouth going dry and gulping reflexively before swiveling his chair to face the intimidating man.

Cave crossed his arms and bit his lip in thought before turning to a woman behind him to whisper something in her ear.

The woman, "Caroline," as the gold name tag dubbed her, proceeded to write something down on her clipboard. She was extremely quiet, and never took her eyes from the paper in front of her.

"Well, well…" Cave gave him a piercing look. Wheatley wasn't sure if that was because of something he'd done, or if Johnson looked at everything that way. "Aren't you enthusiastic? I can't get half my team to be as focused as I saw you a moment earlier. The damn lazies won't touch a single spreadsheet, much less a keyboard!" No one raised their voices to point out his exaggeration. He wheezed a few times, and one of the science staff handed him a handkerchief, but Cave ignored him, using his sleeve instead.

"_Who knows what the hell you pukes wiped up with that…"_ Wheatley heard Cave mutter to himself. He turned his attention back to Wheatley.

"What's your name, son?"

"Martin, sir."

"Well, Marty. You're setting an example for the entire suite. Every single person here.

"That's right!" He bellowed to the room at large. Everyone flinched, except the salt-and-pepper haired woman with the clipboard. "I expect everyone to have the eagerness to further this company that this lad has. No one needs to stand their, gawking. Get to work! This competition isn't going to be won without everyone's blood, sweat, and tears! And I'd like Black Mesa served to me on a silver platter by the end of the month!"

Wheatley remembered the sting of Cave's hand patting his shoulder as the boss turned to the scientists behind him. "You keep an eye on him. The boy's definitely a key to the future of Aperture!" He gave Wheatley's shoulder one tight squeeze before sweeping out of the room, his team following closely, and Caroline only half a step behind, coughing as he went.

For the rest of the day, his co-workers would pause in their work, simply to stare daggers at him.

Multiple pranks followed that encounter, lasting for several days.

However, he was only encouraged by that meeting, and decided to apply for a job in the labs. When presented with the application, which consisted of hundreds of legal forms and placement tests, he settled with becoming a volunteer. Though volunteers weren't allowed to do the experimental tasks, and any signs of incompetence, however slight, were not tolerated in an environment where people could die if one mistake was made.

So, Wheatley found himself stuck with welding pieces of fixtures together in an assembly line of robot armatures. He sat there on a stool, being paid absolutely nothing, hoping to earn a few pointers that would lead to him eventually being promoted.

_Well, at least it beats paperwork._ He'd thought at the time. It was nice to take a break from his computer upstairs and have some quiet time to himself. The whirring of machinery soothed him, making it easier for him to find a groove in his work where he could empty his mind and find solace for a few hours. It was a stark contrast from the uproar the office was in.

Rumors had been going around that Aperture was promoting a few people from each office branch to work as assistants for the head scientists in the labs. Of course, Jessie was all over this news. She was eavesdropping on conversations left and right, trying to come to the best conclusion of what was _truly_ going on.

In those few weeks, the office became a shadyplace. Everyone wanted the promotion. No one was going to risk anything to compromise their chances. Despite the fact that this meant office pranks were down to the very minimum, it seemed as if the office colleagues trusted each other even less. No more extended conversations by the water cooler and most people started eating lunch at their desks, if at all. Production was at an all time high.

No immediate changes were seen in Wheatley's department until the following week, when Cindy, the quiet one in the office, actually screamed with excitement as she read through her emails.

"I got the job! Starting tomorrow, I'm going to be an assistant for the head scientist of the Artifical Intelligence Team!"

The office erupted with applause. Most people were happy for Cindy, she'd always been very kind, and she definitely deserved the job, but there were more than one who frowned and grumbled underneath their applause.

"I know I shouldn't boast," she said as she chewed on the end of her favorite, purple pen, positively glowing with happiness. "But I am most certainly delighted!"

The day after, a burly looking man who wore a green tie every day was also given a job as a part of the AI sector.

Then the next, a blonde fellow, who said nothing, but hurriedly, packed up his things and ran out of the office. Wheatley thought he heard the man muttering something about demographics and being correct.

A few more people had left the office before Wheatley started to feel as if he'd never be promoted. Jessie found him one afternoon, sulking in his car after work.

"Hey," she'd greeted him, walking up and resting her elbows on the edge of his rolled down window. "How are you holding up?"

"Only as good as ever," he answered sarcastically.

"Don't beat yourself up, you should be happy," she beamed.

"Happy? I'm going to be a pencil pusher for the rest of my life! I'll never get promoted, never be anything, just Martin the Moron, who can't even get a decent volunteer job!" He wallowed in his self-pity.

Jessie's expression went serious. He would never understand how she could just switch gears like that. "I've heard things about the labs, Martin. Horrible things."

"Well, yeah," he answered, thinking she was exaggerating. "It is a dangerous place."

"Not only that," she paused, looking around conspiratorially before leaning closer and continuing. "I think people are experimented on down there. Living, breathing people. Not the ordinary cadavers we are led to believe by the higher ups."

He laughed. "Where did you get this story from, Jess?"

"I… I- promise not to tell?"

He nodded.

"I broke into the labs."

"You WHAT?"

"SHH!"

"Why- Wha…"

"I saw them, Wheats. I don't know what they were doing, but they were experimenting. With people! I swear! It was… morbid…" Her eyes were watering.

"Alright, alright. So… What are we going to do about this?"

"Nothing. There isn't anything we can do. If anyone found out, they'd probably kill us!"

"Jessie? Are you sure no one saw you down there?"

She looked at him blankly, thinking. "I'm sure I wasn't. I wasn't stopped, or no one came after me. And I made sure to avoid cameras."

"I ask because I work at the labs. It would look very bad if they saw you down there and then you were up here, talking to me. It would look like we're conspiring."

"Well we are, aren't we?" She grinned.

"No, I think that's just you."

She hit him lightly on the shoulder. "You take the fun out of everything."

"Do not. This isn't a game, Jessie. You're sticking your nose into things that aren't meant to be uncovered. Why are you so curious all the time?"

She glared at him now, her expression venomous. "Since when did you become so heartless? Those people…"

"Probably signed on." He cut her off. "They probably have nowhere else to go, with no families or friends. Aperture probably told them what they were getting into, warned them. And I'm not heartless, I'm just being practical."

"No," she said bitterly. "You're being ignorant. You don't want to see the corporation you idolize for what it truly is, founded on lies!"

She stomped off furiously, jumping into her truck and squealing out of the parking lot before Wheatley had a chance to answer. He watched her go, fuming. She was insane. Mad. She was making it up in her head without looking at the facts.

He remembered driving himself home that evening, telling himself that over and over, like a mantra, but the more he thought about it, the more he began to doubt himself.

Was there really illegal testing happening down there? What was with all the secrecy anyway?

Thoughts like that continued to plague him throughout the weekend. Whenever he saw Jessie around the complex, she would ignore him, sometimes brushing right by without glancing his way. He'd guessed that leaving her alone was the best thing to do.

Sunday night, he had a nightmare. Jessie was being hauled down to the labs by large faceless men in white coats. Wheatley looked on, not caring that his only friend was crying, struggling to get away from the men while screaming his name. He only turned to the woman beside him, a woman with a clipboard and a nametag, muttering a few, unintelligible instructions. She nodded and jotted something down, her red fingernails flashing with the movement. Behind here, Wheatley could see a woman with a kind face, standing next to two men, one with blonde hair and the other with a green bow tie. They smiled serenely at Jessie as she was forcibly dragged down the dark stairway, and took the hands of the white coated men when they came to lead them, too, into the dark depths…

Monday morning he woke with a cold sweat and an incessant need to apologize to Jessie. He was sick of feeling guilty for not believing her speculations (which he was sure had caused his nightmare), and he knew he'd regret apologizing. He told himself on the drive to work that even if she didn't accept his apology outright, he would be fine with it. He just needed to get it out.

As he drove into the parking lot and towards his regular space, he noticed that she wasn't at the offices yet. Her fire-engine red pickup wasn't parked in her space.

_Maybe she went to town for breakfast. _

After waiting hours, sorting papers into files at his cubicle, she still hadn't shown up.

He remembered asking Mr. Ghram, the branch supervisor, if she had called in.

The kind older man shook his head and told him that she had been promoted as a lead scientist's assistant. "They cleaned out her cubicle this morning."

His heart shattered. She'd left. Without even saying goodbye. That was unlike her. Even if she was mad at him, she wasn't so cold as to leave without even something as small as a sticky note on his desk.

Instantly, he knew something was off, and he was going to find out exactly what it was.

After his lunch break, which was more time for plotting than eating that day, he was to report to the labs. A special barcode on his pass key granted him access to the sublevels.

As soon as he was down there, he proceeded to his usual spot, at his bench, and worked until halfway through his shift. He made it seem as if he was clocking out early, but there were large square lockers in a room off to the side of the elevator, away from the sight of the scientists working at their blast vents. Making sure no one was looking, he chose a locker, and climbed in.

It was very uncomfortable in the first hour, much less the fifth, as he finally saw the last scientist leave for the day.

Carefully, he squeezed out and surveyed the area. Only half of the lights were on, so it was more difficult to see the hallway between rooms.

He slowly made his way toward the lower levels via a flight of stairs. A short thrill of fear shot through him as he faced them, flashing on his dream the night before, but he shook it off and continued.

He remembered the tangy smell of iron filled the air as machinery cranked around the walkways. The door at the end of the path was a large airlock with a keycard mechanism on it. He held his card tentatively between his fingers. What would happen? Would it open? Or would an alarm sound? Closing his eyes, he hoped it wasn't the latter. He clenched his jaw as he slid the magnetic strip along the lock.

There was a five second pause as the mainframe processed the information.

Then, with a rather dramatic acceptance jingle, the door's bolts retracted and a long hallway doused in red light was revealed.

Praying that no one had heard the airlock rumble open, he slowly made his way down the hall.

It was one of the most daring things he'd ever done. He was starting to feel the adrenaline of his success so far fill him up, he actually let a smile slip and his walk became more relaxed. He'd done it, he'd actually snuck into a part of Aperture that was forbidden to him. He filled to the brim with confidence.

But then, he heard them. Screams, traveling toward him from a door in the hallway, painted in an orange light. The muffled sounds of a struggle could be heard through it.

"Hold her down!" a male voice said. Wheatley's heart began hammering in his chest.

"No! NO! Please don't do this! No! Stop! Stop! Stop…" The woman protested. Wheatley felt a tightening in his chest. He knew that voice… Innocent, polite, kind, quiet Cindy. His fists clenched and he grit his teeth.

_Those MONSTERS!_

"Calm down, ma'am," another voice cut in. Cold. Unfeeling. "Everyone survives the procedure, and these are orders we can't override."

"Docter Levitz, give her the medication."

He turned away. He couldn't handle it.

He ran back to the workroom as soon as he closed the airlock. His thoughts darted across his mind. What was he going to do? They had her, and whatever they were doing to poor Cindy, they were going to do to her.

He closed his eyes, racking his brain, searching for solutions. "Nothing. There isn't anything we can do." Jessie's voice made him start. It was so clear, he thought for a moment she was in the room with him…

_No, Jess. I will do something… _

If they hadn't found him out by now, he'd just wait for a promotion. Maybe, if they came to him, actually giving him permission to be a part of whatever was going on, he could save the others. If he wasn't too late.

He walked from the sublevels back into the still crowded office. No one paid attention to him. Everyone was still hell bent on performing at their best, and who could blame them? This office wasn't exactly the best place in the world.

And so he waited. A month passed, and news came that the founder was deathly ill. He'd contracted a disease from one of his experiments gone wrong. It had accumulated over time. His specialized team as trying to keep it all secret, but it had grown too serious to hold back any longer. A public announcement to every Aperture Science employee revealed that his personal assistant, Caroline, would not only be taking over control of the company, but would become the lead case for the Artificial Intelligence Project.

Some people held their heads low, mourning the inevitable future of their beloved employer. Others celebrated Caroline's taking over of the company, good for her, what luck, being the boss's favorite. Wheatley, however, could feel his blood boil. Could no one else see what was truly happening here? He could feel a wave of guilt wash over him, as he was sure that that was what Jessie had been thinking to herself all that time, watching her colleagues work so hard, only to be punished.

Finally, a month later, a promotion notice had appeared in his inbox.

Aperture's great leader was dead, so the scientists were wasting no time in collecting their souls.

Grimly, he printed off the form that contained false enthusiasm and congratulating words before standing from his desk and walking out of the office. He had heard people asking him where he was off to, but he ignored them.

As he was driving home, he realized that he'd left his keycard in his cubicle, but remembered he didn't need it anymore. He was now someone else's plaything, and he was going to enjoy the remainder of his life while he could.

When he got home, he banished all thoughts of the laboratories from his mind, made himself a cup of tea, and sat at one of his barstools, staring blankly at the other one across from him. He realized then and there that, in reality, he'd always been alone. His dreams had gotten in the way of any opportunity to make friends, start a family. The only reason he and Jessie had become friends was because of her determination to socialize with him. He'd worked himself to his fullest capacity. He'd even volunteered to lock himself away, gluing pieces of metal together. What was it all for?

He should have signed up for the best scientific facility, instead of the second. He was sure Cave Johnson was rolling in his grave.

Wheatley's eyes were still on the chair when there was a knock on his door. It was the last thing he remembered.

* * *

Wheatley's eyes snapped open, but immediately squinted as they adjusted to the harsh light of the sterile room.

"Wha…" he coughed up a few times, his dry throat tasting somewhat like dirt. "Where am I?"

"You are in the medical wing," a clear, robotic, female voice answered.

"Who are you?"

"I am the collective consciousness that runs this facility. The facility to which you and your friend are most unwelcome."

_Chell!_

"Where is she?" he asked ferociously, trying to sit up but only being able to prop himself up on his elbows. "What have you done to her?"

"I've done nothing to her, yet. I've only just put her back in her respective place."

"Where is she!"

GLaDOS paused, scrutinizing his reaction.

"Where she belongs."

He obviously wasn't going to get a straight answer.

"So," he began, "you must be GLaDOS."

"Point one for the moron."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Or perhaps my earlier sarcasm about the surface world making humans hard of hearing was truer than I suspected…"

Wheatley scoffed. "Someone's got her circuits crossed."

GLaDOS was offended. "Absolutely not. I am functioning at a higher capacity than my makers ever dreamed. I am more than perfect. I do have a theory that you, on the other hand, have taken one to the head a few times too many."

He reached up and, like he did after cryo, checked his vitals. The only difference between then and now was that he was unbearably sore and he had a few bruises and cuts.

"How long was I out?"

"Fifteen hours, thirty-one minutes, and forty seconds. Plus twelve milliseconds, if you were wondering. I began the timer once she brought you to me."

"She wouldn't. She despises you."

"Oh, and wouldn't I believe it. She tried to kill me twice. Then she helped me reclaim my facility just so she could fall back in here and try it a third time!"

Wheatley cocked an eyebrow. "Uh… I really don't think she meant…"

"Oh yes, and of course she had to bring you along, the ghost of her long lost partner in crime."

There was a pause.

"…What are you talking about?"

He could hear the zoom as whatever camera she was using to monitor him closed in on his confused face.

"Oh. Don't know that part of the story yet? This will be so much fun."


	13. Chapter 12

**Sorry about the wait, and the slight change in format. College has given me a tight schedule and the state of mind in which I purge all creative thought from my head and play video games on my days off. Taking a break from using your mind is refreshing, but comes at a cost; my happiness over yours, and I'm sorry. :( My friend and I hit a roadblock that came at a convenient time between my finishing of the Harry Potter books and a swell in stress, I just didn't have any motivation. I apologize that this couldn't have come sooner. **

**Everyday Since Leaving **

**Chapter 12. **

Chell had never had a more anxious elevator ride. All those times GLaDOS had sent her down to those diabolical testing chambers, never expecting to come back up, didn't beat this. Even when Wheatley's core had smashed her elevator to pieces, sending her into a free-fall through the empty shaft accompanied by an extremely irate potato, only came in a close second. At least then she'd known only she was in any real danger.

Now was completely different. She stood in the dark, claustrophobic cylinder, her broken wrist still wrapped in there jumpsuit, and all her thoughts focused on her friend upstairs.

_is he still unconscious? I hope his scab hasn't cracked. What will GLaDOS tell him when he does wake up? _

Her thoughts continued to run in this self destructive pattern in high paced circles. She tried a couple of times to calm down, breathe deeply, and clear her head, but GLaDOS had added horrible monotonous music to the the ride that, for some reason, gave Chell an intense desire to punch a hole through the elevator's glass walls.

"How do you like the new music?" asked the cool female voice that was so familiar to Chell.

She had always hated how GLaDOS seemed to be able to read her mind.

"Of course," continued the AI, "It's only the first of many changes I've made since sending you up to the surface."

GLaDOS paused for a moment, probably to give Chell time to absorb that piece of information, but the young woman simply rolled her eyes. Of course she knew about the changes. She and Wheatley had landed in one of them. The question was, why did GLaDOS need the extra room?

"Those robots you met briefly, before I tried to release you, were quite efficient in their testing…" GLaDOS sounded disappointed. "Though, they weren't nearly as entertaining to watch as flesh and blood subjects. In the end, however, they discovered something most useful to me…"

As the elevator stopped, and the doors slid open, Chell beheld a familiar sight. She decided to stop thinking about anything except the task at hand. All around her, the large monitors that surrounded the transparent elevator depicted a list of profiles of the personality cores, complete with pictures and brief descriptions of each one. Her eyes ticked through each one. Anger, Intelligence, Fact, Space, Curiosity, and more until they rested on one with a brilliant blue shining lens.

…_Wheatley_

"Your little idiot is still asleep," GLaDOS notified her. "Perhaps if you do well on this test, you'll be able to see him."

Chell's heart pounded painfully in her throat. Not because of the promises GLaDOS made, she was used to the computer's lies.

_Your?_

"Are you going to stand there all day?" Drawled the computer's voice. "Or don't you want your reward?I can see why you wouldn't, he's not very good company, is he?"

Chell glared at the nearest camera pointing at her from above the doorway. Haughtily, she stalked past the computer's eye climbing the metal stairs and finding herself in another circular room. The walls were all white. In truth, it was a very pretty room, if not for the impending atmosphere.

In the center of the room stood a small dais, on which sat a white fingerless glove, very similar in appearance to Chell's long-fall boots, and a familiar gun.

"The glove is for your hand," GLaDOS spoke as if speaking to a child. Chell turned and looked blankly at the camera in the room.

_Well duh. _

"Your broken hand." GLaDOS spoke irritably. The girl rolled her eyes again and proceeded to gingerly strap the glove on. "It should keep your hand stable, more so than your current get-up." Chell could hear the scrolling mechanism as GLaDOS her up and down, disappointingly no doubt. "It'll also give you enough strength to hold your portal gun."

Chell lifted the gun off it's podium after strapping the gauntlet onto her forearm. the coldness of the material sent goosebumps along her bare skin. Feeling the gun's weight in her arms again made her realize just how much she missed the object, in a weird way.

As soon as she had it situated, in her hands testing her wrist, the door in front of her unlocked. she tossed away her torn jumpsuit from around her shoulder and proceeded through it in her tank top and shorts.

The click of her boots on the floor echoed as she stepped cautiously through the opening, and her eyes took in the large spherical room. It was exactly like the Science spheres were like before, down in the murky abyss of Aperture's Netherworld, only much cleaner. The rusty, metal structures and crude, alloy armatures were updated to the more recent panel technology. Even the moat seemed to have less of an acidic-green pigment. The rusty metal walls remained however, and added shadow that was much more pleasant to her eyes than the vivid glare in the previous room.

While she took in her surroundings, she was also focusing on the layout of her test. It seemed easy enough, though. What was GLaDOS playing at?

_This should be a lot harder. She knows what I am capable of, so why the beginner tests? _

Without further hesitation, Chell grabbed the cube sitting on a small, raised platform and set it on the large red button connected to a great, paneled drawbridge. This lead to another area of the enormous sphere. As she crossed the bridge, she looked at the puzzle before her. There was only a slight change in difficulty. Glass windows separated her and the button from the cube. The cube itself sat on a white panel. As she paced the window, she noticed there was a circular hole in the glass.

Chell stuck the nozzle of the portal gun through the gap, angled it toward the panel and shot an orange-dyed portal at it. Seconds later she flicked the gun almost lazily, yet swiftly out of the window and shot a blue portal at the ceiling above the button. The door behind her opened and she sauntered through the tunnel into the next arena.

"Is this boring you as much as it's boring me?" GLaDOS chimed as Chell had already solved the third gauntlet.

The question was obviously rhetorical, as GLaDOS had opened the elevator shaft at the end of the course without any need for the test subject to place the cube.

"There is no need to test the pathetic beginner levels, as I'm sure they work perfectly. If my previous tests are any example, I'm positive they'll live up to my standards."

She hesitantly walked into the glass capsule, hoping that this was not the place she would call her grave. Not after she caught a glimpse into the life that she had been missing her whole life, or that which she could remember. When she had left the facility that dreary broken day, she told herself that she would make the best of her regretted actions. That she would make her new life a paramount of her friend's loss.

Chell still thought of Wheatley.

She should have left the facility when she got a hunch. But no; her curiosity got the best of her and she now had a new burden to her conscience. She had gotten him into this. It was her fault that this happened, and there would never be ay day to come that she wouldn't blame herself for it.

The test subject was so lost in her thoughts that she had missed most of the commentary that GLaDOS was now providing.

'_Control yourself! Pull it back together before you lose it. Focus on getting out! Don't throw it away just yet. You have to be strong, if not for yourself, then do it for _his_ sake. Constantly reminding yourself of your failures isn't helping anyone.' _A voice in the back of her mind told her.

"…use. Acid and fire was a notable setback in motivation. But I'm positive you'll be able to handle it."

_Great._

_**AN: Looking over my chapter notes, I believe that I am going to have a good time with the next chapter!**_


End file.
